The Sabbath of the Soul

Anna Letitia Barbauld (1743–1825)

SLEEP, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,

Of earth and folly born;

Ye shall not dim the light that streams

From this celestial morn.

To-morrow will be time enough

To feel your harsh control;

Ye shall not violate, this day,

The Sabbath of my soul.

Sleep, sleep forever, guilty thoughts;

Let fires of vengeance die;

And, purged from sin, may I behold

A God of purity!