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Sabbath Morn

by Eliza Wolcott

Hail blessed day—let each glad spirit say,
My soul awake, repent, and kneel to pray;
Bow to His foot-stool, view His pard'ning grace,
Seek Him betimes—adore His smiling face.

If cares oppress, and trials fill the mind,
See on the cross, the Saviour was resign'd;
He bore a heavier load—Ah! yes for me,
He bled and died, to set the captive free.

Then rise my soul, adore exalted love,
Raise swift thy wings to those fair climes above,
Where cherubs sound the praises of their King,
And all their praises flow with joy to Him.

Then to His courts with joy I would repair,
And hear the wondera that revive me there;
The word at God alone unfolds the way,
That leads to joys of never fading day.

Reign o'er me King Supreme, forever reign,
And from vain thoughts and words may I refrain;
Then by the door of sweet salvation, I,
O'er the etherial hills, myself-espy.

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