O day of rest and gladness, O day of joy and light, O balm of care and sadness, Most beautiful, most bright, On thee the high and lowly Who bend before the throne Sing, Holy, holy, holy, To the Eternal One.
Thou art a port protected From storms that round us rise; A garden intersected With streams of paradise; Thou art a cooling fountain In life's dry dreary sand; From Thee, like Pisgah's mountain, We view our promised land.
A day of sweet reflection Thou art, a day of love, A day to raise affection From earth to things above. New graces ever gaining From this our day of rest, We seek the rest remaining To mansions of the blest.