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256b Sacred Rest

Sweet is the day of sacred rest, 
No mortal care shall fill my breast; 
Oh, may my heart in tune be found, 
Like David’s harp of solemn sound. 

Then shall I share a glor'ous part, 
When grace hath well refined my heart, 
And fresh supplies of joy are shed, 
Like holy oil to cheer my head. 

Then shall I see, and hear and know 
All I desired and wished below; 
And ev’ry pow’r find sweet employ, 
In that eternal world of joy.

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