Saturday Night

Dublin Core


Saturday Night


Now, wife and children, let's be gay,
My work is done, and here's the pay:
"Twas hard to earn, but never mind it,
Hope rear'd the sheaf, and peace shall bind it!

Six days I've toiled, and now we meet
To share the welcome weekly treat
Of toast and tea, of rest and joy,
Which, gained by labor, cannot cloy.

Come ye, who form my dear fire side,
My care, my comfort, and my pride: -
Come, now, and let us close the night
In harmless sports and fond delight.

To morrow's dawn brings blessed peace,
And each domestic joy's increase,
To him who honestly maintain
That course of life which Heaven ordains!

Of rich and poor, the difference what? -
In working, or in working not:
Why, then, on Sunday we're as great
As those who own some vast estate:

For on to morrow's happy day
We shall work less, perhaps, then they:
And, though no dainties it afford,
What's sweet and clean will grace our board.

This know, for every blessing given,
Thankful we'll bow our knees to Heaven;
In God's own house our voices raise,
With grateful notes of prayer and praise!

Such duties will not interfere,
Nor cloud the brown with thought severe:
But still leave time enough to spend,
To take a walk, or see a friend.

Sweet the serenity of heart
That public worship does impart!
And sweet the field, or sweet the road,
To him whose conscience is no load!

Thus shall the days, as God designed
improve my health, unbend my mind:
And Monday morning, free from pain,
cheerful I'll go to work again.

Our life is but a lengthen's week,
Through which with toil, for rest we seek:
And he whose labor well is past,
A joyful Sabbath finds at last!


A Journeyman Mechanic


1:34, p. 4




A Journeyman Mechanic, “Saturday Night,” Periodical Poets, accessed February 22, 2024,


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