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
In mansions of the blest.