Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love;

But there’s a nobler rest above;

To that our laboring souls aspire,

With ardent pangs of strong desire.

2 No more fatigue, no more distress,

Nor sin nor death shall reach the place;

No groans to mingle with the songs

Which warble from immortal tongues.

3 No rude alarms of raging foes,

No cares to break the long repose;

No midnight shade, no clouded sun,

But sacred, high, eternal noon.

4 O long-expected day, begin,

Dawn on these realms of woe and sin;

Fain would we leave this weary road,

And sleep in death, to rest with God.