THE Sabbath dawn is sweet,
Its hours we welcome in,
When we our Teachers meet,
And try God's smile to win:
We would detain its moments long,
And feel that they to God belong.

Before the snares of sin,
Entrap our steps to woe,
We would at once begin,
Thy spirit's power to know,
Avoid transgression's downward ways,
And give to thee our earliest days.

Bless, Lord, each Teacher kind,
Who here thy word explains,
May we their precepts mind,
And thus reward their pains;
“In wisdom and in stature” grow,
Like Jesus when he dwelt below.

Our Pastor, Lord, defend,
That still from Zion's height,
He may his message send,
And all to Christ invite;
Prolong his useful life, and bless
The flock he feeds, with righteousness.

As years still glide along,
Oh, bring us nearer Thee:
May we through Christ be strong,
May we through grace be free,
Till passing upwards to the sky,
We make unending melody.