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Normale Version: To the Sabbath
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To the Sabbath

Ah! quiet day, I oft recall the time
When I did chase my childish sluggishness
The "rear of darkness lingering still"--to dress
In due sort for thy coming: the first chime
Of blithesome bells that ushered in the morn
Carolled to me of rest and simplest mirth:
It was then all happiness on the wide earth
To gaze! I little dreamt that man was born
For aught but wholesome toil and holiest praise,
Thanking that God who made him to rejoice!
But I am changéd now! nor could I raise
My sunken spirit at thy well-known voice;
But that thou seemest soothingly to say,
"Look up, poor mourner, to a better day."