 | Poems of home and country |  |
256
THERE'S REST FOR THEE.
There's rest for thee,
Fond heart, who life art wasting.
Remit thy eager search of earth-born bliss;
The Saviour seek—true fount of happiness.
Flee to that refuge while thy days are hasting!
Fond heart, who life art wasting.
Remit thy eager search of earth-born bliss;
The Saviour seek—true fount of happiness.
Flee to that refuge while thy days are hasting!
There 's peace for thee;
Whose heart is all commotion,
The voice of Christ can calm the troubled sea.
Forsake thy sins, and to His covenant flee,
And sweet shall be thy course o'er life's rough ocean.
Whose heart is all commotion,
The voice of Christ can calm the troubled sea.
Forsake thy sins, and to His covenant flee,
And sweet shall be thy course o'er life's rough ocean.
There 's hope for thee,
Whose soul is rent with sadness.
With humble trust thy all to Jesus give;
Give Him thy heart, for Him resolve,
Then, on thy night, shall rise the star of gladness.
Whose soul is rent with sadness.
With humble trust thy all to Jesus give;
Give Him thy heart, for Him resolve,
Then, on thy night, shall rise the star of gladness.
There 's life for thee,
Who, weary with delaying,
Shalt haste to Jesus, while He waits to save,
Who for thy life His life so freely gave,—
The sacred call of love at once obeying.
Who, weary with delaying,
Shalt haste to Jesus, while He waits to save,
Who for thy life His life so freely gave,—
The sacred call of love at once obeying.
| Poems of home and country | |