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.