Sweet Resting Saturday

Seven different suns, since the last time i saw you Seven different moons, and early mornings dew Thy coming is my fate Thy going is my wake For thy cometh once in seven suns And leave the working men under the sun I seea mornday, not you And a tuesday and a wednesday and a thurday all too Then i see thy evce , sweet friday Beckoning thy coming, resting saturday And in thy going a sunny sunday Yhen is again Thy going and thy coming like a rain Sweet seven different suns Frosty seven different moons