Classic Poem

I THINK that all our days should be Lord's days,
And sacred to his service. Do we need
Church-calling bells God-ward our steps to lead,
Organs and choirs to stimulate our praise,
And well-read homilies our souls to raise
Above their week-long earthliness and greed?
Alas, what profit is it, if succeed,
To one sweet day employed in hallowed ways,
Six, spent in worldliness and sloth and pride?
Dear Sabbath, pearl of price! that we should dare
To set thee in such tinsel for the wear
Of the Great King! How shall our work abide
When He shall come like a consuming fire
And dross shall melt beneath his sacred ire?