The day of rest once more comes round, A day to all believers dear: The silver trumpets seem to sound, That call the tribes of Israel near; Ye people all, obey the call, And in Jehovah’s courts appear. Obedient to Thy summons, Lord, We to Thy sanctuary come; Thy gracious presence here afford, And send Thy people joyful home; Of Thee our king O may we sing; And none with such a theme be dumb! O hasten, Lord, the day when those Who know Thee here shall see Thy face; When suffering shall for ever close, And they shall reach their destined place; Then shall they shall rest, supremely blest, Eternal debtors to Thy grace.