Hark, the Sabbath bells are pealing !

Hark, the Sabbath bells are pealing!
Hundreds to the House of Prayer
Throng the crowded pathways, feeling
Thankful to be summon'd there.

Once this day was dull and lonely,
Weekly toil brought more content;
That was useful, — this was only
Wearisome, because misspent.

Now the Sabbath morn is cheerful,
Heav'n's high hopes our hearts employ;
And, if any eye be tearful,
It overflows with tears of joy.

Now we hear the sacred story
Of His love who for us died,
Means of grace, and hopes of glory
Every thought and hour divide.

Blessings rest on those who sought us,
Like their Master, when we err'd,
Tended, comforted, and brought us
Where we hear His Holy word.

"Beautiful upon the mountains"
Are the feet of those who bring
Tidings of the eternal fountains,
Whence the living waters spring!

And how blest, when thousands thirsting
Bow with bended heart and knee
Round those " living waters" bursting
Rock of ages — fresh from Thee!

Hark, the Sabbath bells are pealing!
Let us to the House of Prayer
Press with eager footsteps, feeling
Thankful to be summon'd there.