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The Lord's Day.
This is employment all Divine; My soul, the blest assembly join,
And from the world this day retire : Go, bow before thy Maker's throne, Thy risen Saviour's glories own,
And feed thy love, and fan the fire.
Forget the trifles here below,
The shining heap, the gaudy show,
All sensual mirth, and worldly cares ; On wings of strong devotion rise, Pass every cloud, pass all the skies,
And leave beneath Thy feet the stars.
To God direct thy steady flight,
Great Fund of bliss and Source of light;
There fix, and there delight thine eyes : View every shining wonder o'er, And with transported heart adore,
And feast on fruits of paradise.
This day was by our Lord ordain'd, That thus His servants might be train'd
For heavenly work, and heavenly joy : My soul, be this thy day of rest. And thus prepare thee to be blest,
Thus all thy holy hours employ !
Simon Browne, i
O day most calm, most bright! The fruit of this, the next world's bud ; The indorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a Friend, and with His blood ; The couch of time ; care's balm and bay ; The week were dark, but for thy light;
Thy torch doth show the way.