The day of rest once more comes round,
A day to all be­liev­ers dear:
The sil­ver trum­pets seem to sound,
That call the tribes of Is­ra­el near;
Ye peo­ple all, obey the call,
And in Je­ho­vah’s courts ap­pear.

Obedient to Thy sum­mons, Lord,
We to Thy sanc­tu­ary come;
Thy gra­cious pre­sence here af­ford,
And send Thy peo­ple joy­ful home;
Of Thee our king O may we sing;
And none with such a theme be dumb!

O hast­en, Lord, the day when those
Who know Thee here shall see Thy face;
When suf­fer­ing shall for ev­er close,
And they shall reach their des­tined place;
Then shall they shall rest, su­preme­ly blest,
Eternal debt­ors to Thy grace.