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.