Song for Friday Night

THOU beautiful Sabbath, thou sanctified day,

That chasest our cares and our sorrows away,

O come with good fortune, with joy and with peace,

To the homes of thy pious, their bliss to increase!

In honour of thee are the tables decked white;

From the clear candelabra shines many a light;

All men in the finest of garments are dress’d,

As far as his purse, each hath got him the best.

For as soon as the Sabbath-hat ’s put on the head,

New feelings are born and old feelings are dead;

Yes, suddenly vanish black care and grim sorrow,

None troubles concerning the things of tomorrow.

New heavenly powers are given to each;

Of everyday matters now hush’d is all speech;

At rest are all hands that have toil’d with much pain;

Now peace and tranquillity everywhere reign.

Not the choicest of wines at a banqueting board

Can ever such exquisite pleasure afford

As the Friday-night meal when prepared with due zeal

To honour thee, Sabbath, thou day of sweet rest!

With thy angels attending thee, one at each side,

Come on Friday betimes in pure homes to abide,

In the homes of the faithful that shine in their bliss,

Like souls from a world which is better than this!

One Angel, the good one, is at thy right hand,

At thy left doth the other, the bad Angel, stand;

Compell’d ’gainst his will to say “Amen,” and bless

With the blessing he hears the good Angel express:

That when Sabbath, dear Sabbath, thou comest again,

We may lustily welcome thee, free from all pain,

In the fear of the Lord, and with joy in our heart,

And again keep thee holy till thou shalt depart!

Then come with good fortune, with joy and with peace,

To the homes of thy pious, their bliss to increase!

Already we’ve now been awaiting thee long,

All eager to greet thee with praise and with song.