
George Herbert - Non-Music, Lyric Poem (Literature)
Sunday by George Herbert Lyrics
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Lyrics
O day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world's bud, Th'endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blood; The couch of time; care's balm and bay: The week were dark, but for thy light: Thy torch doth show the way. The other days and thou Make up one man; whose face thou art, Knocking at heaven with thy brow: The worky-days are the back-part; The burden of the week lies there, Making the whole to stoop and bow, Till thy release appear. Man had straight forward gone To endless death: but thou dost pull And turn us round to look on one, Whom, if we were not very dull, We could not choose to look on still; Since there is no place so alone, The which he doth not fill. Sundays the pillars are, On which heav'n's palace arched lies: The other days fill up the spare And hollow room with vanities. They are the fruitful beds and borders In God's rich garden: that is bare, Which parts their ranks and orders. The Sundays of man's life, Threaded together on time's string, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternal glorious King. On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope; Blessings are plentiful and rife, More plentiful than hope. This day my Saviour rose, And did enclose this light for his: That, as each beast his manger knows, Man might not of his fodder miss. Christ hath took in this piece of ground, And made a garden there for those Who want herbs for their wound. The rest of our Creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the same shake, which at his passion Did th'earth and all things with it move. As Samson bore the doors away, Christ's hands, though nail'd, wrought our salvation, And did unhinge that day. The brightness of that day We sullied by our foul offence: Wherefore that robe we cast away, Having a new at his expense, Whose drops of bloud paid the full price, That was requir'd to make us gay, And fit for Paradise. Thou art a day of mirth: And where the weekdays trail on ground, Thy flight is higher, as thy birth. O let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from sev'n to sev'n, Till that we both, being toss'd from earth, Fly hand in hand to heav'n!
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Meaning of "Sunday" by George Herbert
The lyrics paint Sunday as a divine respite, a moment of profound calm and light that anchors the entire week. It's presented not just as a day off, but as the "fruit of this, the next world's bud," a tangible piece of future bliss. This day is the "couch of time; care's balm and bay," offering a necessary pause from the burdens of the workdays, which are described as the "back-part" that makes the "whole to stoop and bow." The central tension lies in the contrast between the drudgery of the other days and the transcendent peace Sunday offers. The narrator suggests that without Sunday's light, the week would be dark and man would "straight forward gone / To endless death." Sunday acts as a turning point, a force that "pull[s] / And turn[s] us round" to face something more meaningful, something that can fill even the most solitary spaces. The writing uses striking metaphors to elevate Sunday. It's the "face" of the week, the "pillars" holding up heaven's palace, and the "fruitful beds and borders" in God's garden, in stark contrast to the "vanities" that fill the "hollow room" of other days. These images suggest that Sunday is not merely a break, but an essential structure and source of spiritual nourishment. Ultimately, the lyrics find their power in framing Sunday as a divine gift tied to Christ's resurrection. It's a day "enclosed" for believers, ensuring they don't miss their spiritual "fodder." The act of Christ's sacrifice, which "unhinge[d] that day," makes it a place of healing and preparation for Paradise, offering a "new" robe at his expense. This theological grounding elevates Sunday from a simple day of rest to a profound, life-affirming event, making the desire to "Fly hand in hand to heav'n" feel like the natural culmination of its grace.
This AI-assisted editorial analysis was reviewed, improved, and approved by the LyricsWeb editorial team.
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Credits
- Writers
- George Herbert