HYMN FOR SUNDAY EVENING. Eliza Day Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T132359 Daye, Eliza, b. ca. 1734. Poems, on Various Subjects. Liverpool Printed by J. M'Creery 1798 pp. [243]-244. [2],x,[4],258p.; 8°

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HYMN FOR SUNDAY EVENING . AGAIN the shades of night advance , And close this blessed day , For transient is earth's purest bliss , And sabbaths pass away . A taste they give of future joys ; But faint and transient here ; Till we at Heaven's blest courts arrive , And find them purer there . Oh ! may the truths this day has taught , Each Christian grace increase : For Lord , we thank thee , this day's lot To us was health and peace . No meaner pleasures from thy courts , Sure led our steps away ; Nor in thy presence , earthly cares Could tempt our hearts to stray . How did our praises and our prayers , Reviving zeal impart ; And every theme that tun'd our tongues , With fervour warm the heart ? How in the preacher's warning voice Did we his truths revere , Receive them with an humble mind , Not with a critic ear ? Nor sought we , in each sin condemn'd , To suit another's case ; But in our own , with searching eye , Faithful each fault to trace . Lord , if our service thro' the day , Was pleasing in thy sight , We thank thy love for every grace , That kept our hearts aright . To day those solemn vows were paid , Which should our souls refine ; Lord may our service thro' the week , And all our hearts be thine .