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Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.

By The Holy Year (1862). IV. “O Day of rest and gladness”

Christopher Wordsworth (1807–1885)


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,

Through ages join’d in tune,

Sing, Holy, Holy, Holy,

To the great God Triune.

On thee, at the Creation,

The Light first had its birth;

On thee, for our salvation,

Christ rose from depths of earth;

On thee, our Lord victorious

The Spirit sent from Heaven;

And thus on thee most glorious

A triple Light was given.

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.

Thou art a holy ladder,

Where Angels go and come;

Each Sunday finds us gladder,

Nearer to Heaven, our home;

A day of sweet refection,

A day thou art of love;

A day of Resurrection

From earth to things above.

To-day on weary nations

The heavenly Manna falls;

To holy convocations

The silver trumpet calls,

Where Gospel-light is glowing

With pure and radiant beams;

And living water flowing

With soul-refreshing streams.

New graces ever gaining

From this our day of rest,

We reach the Rest remaining

To spirits of the blest;

To Holy Ghost be praises,

To Father and to Son;

The Church her voice upraises

To Thee, blest Three in One.