Sunny memories were refreshed in men’s hearts by so delightful an observance, and the whole matter illustrated the lovingkindness of the Lord, who when his people have sorrowed for sin would have their sorrow turned into joy.
The hill of Sion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.
Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry:
We’re marching thro’ Immanuel’s ground
To fairer worlds on high.