This is the day to tune with care Each unseen chord within: Would we for Sabbaths well prepare, To-day we should begin. Before the Majesty of Heaven To-morrow we appear; No honour half so great is given, Throughout man’s sojourn here. Yet if his heart be not prepared, His soul not meetly drest, In vain that honour will be shared,-- No smile will greet the guest. We must beforehand lay aside Our own polluted dress, And wear the robe of Jesu’s bride,-- His spotless righteousness. We must forsake this world below, Forget all earthly things; Strive with a seraph’s love to glow, And soar on angel wings. The altar must be cleansed to-day, Meet for the offered Lamb; The wood in order we must lay, And wait to-morrow’s flame. Lord of the Sacrifice we bring, To thee our hopes aspire; Our Prophet, our High-Priest, and King, Send down the sacred fire. [Illustration] Saturday Evening. “Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still.” --PS. iv. 4. Another portion of the span Assigned to transitory man Has now for ever flown; And ere I taste the sweet repose My heavenly Guardian’s care bestows, I kneel before his throne. God of my life! to thee I pray; The passing pilgrim of a day, Soon, soon to sleep in death,-- Let me not spend unthinkingly, These moments that so quickly fly, Shortened by every breath. Ere yet that hallowed morn appear, Given to recruit the soul and cheer-- Pour down thy light divine; That while my progress I retrace, Since last I hailed the day of grace, Its beams within may shine. Oh, has that rapid, ceaseless tide, Of which the waves so noiseless glide, Borne me towards heaven, my home; As surely as each day, each hour, Has borne me with resistless power, On to the silent tomb? Have my affections soared above? And has my Saviour’s wondrous love Constrained me, day by day, For him to act, to think, to speak? His glory as my end to seek, His Spirit to obey? Have I his constant influence felt? And has his holy word so “dwelt Richly” my heart within, That outward faults have been subdued, And inward hidden thoughts renewed, Cleansed from the taint of sin? Lord! if my only answer now Must be these silent tears that flow, For days not given to thee; Still let a holier life begin-- A life not thus defaced by sin-- If I to-morrow see. Then let thy word its power exert, To quicken, cleanse, transform my heart, Within thy house of prayer; Or if that boon be still denied, With me in solitude abide, And make my wants thy care.