THE LAST SABBATH

I. As the sun declines o’er the western bay, And the sky is a blaze with gold, The bell of a distant church begins to play, Ringing sweet and bold.

II. Here may I be on this sacred day, Where the whispering breezes glide, What echoes of promise the wild deer say, In the hush of the woods, I abide.

III. With the shadows lengthening softly on, For the night to replace the day, May my soul, like those leaves beneath the dawn, In sweetness, with gladness pray,

IV. For as the last rays fall on all I see, May my heart be calmed and content, And my spirit, like the stream so free, In nature’s arms be ever bent.

V. So while the earth in her beauty lies, And evening cloaks her fair, May my love rise high in the tranquil skies, Hoping for peace everywhere.

• John Gibson Lockhart