Day of days, the dearest, best,
Hallowed by Jehovah's rest!
When his six-days' work was done,
Holy rose the seventh sun.
When creation's pillars stood,
And the Lord pronounced them good,
Morning stars together sang—
Heaven with Sabbath praises rang.
Earth in pristine beauty shone,
Like a gem, before his throne,
While he marked thee, as his claim—
And he sealed thee with his name.
Choice of God, thou blessed day!
At thy dawn the grave gave way
To the power of him within,
Who had, sinless, bled for sin.
Thine the radiance to illume
First, for man, the dismal tomb,
When its bars their weakness owned,
There revealing death dethroned.
Then the Sun of righteousness
Rose, a darkened world to bless,
Bringing up from mortal night,
Immortality and light.
Day of glory! day of power!
Sacred be thine ev'ry hour!
Emblem, earnest of the rest
That remaineth for the blest!
When at last it shall appear
How they loved and kept thee here,
To a temple in the skies,
Fair, eternal, they shall rise.
Not a sigh of grief or care
Shall mingle with their praises there;
Then their sweet reward shall be
An eternity of thee.