There Remaineth a Rest, etc

THINE earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love: But there's a nobler rest above; To that our longing souls aspire, With cheerful hope and strong desire.

No more fatigue, no more distress, Nor sin, nor death shall reach the place; No groans shall mingle with the songs Which dwell upon immortal tongues;

No rude alarms of angry foes; No cares to break the long repose; No midnight shade, no clouded sun, But sacred, high, eternal noon.

Oh, long-expected day, begin; Dawn on these realms of pain and sin; With joy we'll tread th' appointed road, And sleep in death to rest with God.