The sabbath Morning.
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How calm comes on this holy day!

 Morning unfolds the eastern sky, And upward takes her lofty way,

 Triumphantto to her throne on high. Earth glorious wakes. as o'er her breast

 The Morning fiings her rosy ray, And blu hing tiom her dreamless rest,

 Unveils her to the gage oi day; So still the scene, each wakeful sound, Seems hallowed music breathing round. The night winds to their mountain caves,

 The morning mists to heaven's blue steep And 10 their ocean depths the waves Are gone, their holy rest to keep. ri, tranquil n -around-above-

 The forests far which bound the scene Are peaceful as their Makers love,

 Like hills oi everlasting green; And clouds like earthly barriers stand, As bnlwarks oi some vlewlessland. Each tree that lifts iis arm in air,

 Or hangs its pensive head from high, Seems bending at is morning prayer,

 Or whispering with the hours gone by!- This holy morning, Lord, is thine;

 Let silence saociity the pralse- Lei heaven and earth in love combine,

 Ind morning stars their music raise Fol lis the day--iov-ye dead, N hen death and hell are captive led!