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REST.
“Oh! spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.”—
Ps. xxxix, 13.
Fold up thy hands, my weary soul,
Sit down beside the way!
Thou hast at last a time to rest,
At last a holiday.
Sit down beside the way!
Thou hast at last a time to rest,
At last a holiday.
Thy lingering life of weariness,
Thy time of toil and tears,
A little space may grant thee grace
To overcome thy fears.
Thy time of toil and tears,
A little space may grant thee grace
To overcome thy fears.
A bright access of patient peace,
Not rapture, nor delight;
But even as sounds of labor cease
Before the hush of night.
Not rapture, nor delight;
But even as sounds of labor cease
Before the hush of night.
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Or as the storm that all day long
Has wailed, and raged, and wept,
Nor ceased its force nor changed its course,
While slow the daylight crept;
Has wailed, and raged, and wept,
Nor ceased its force nor changed its course,
While slow the daylight crept;
But suddenly, before the sun
Drops down behind the hills,
A clear, calm shining parts the cloud
And all the ether fills.
Drops down behind the hills,
A clear, calm shining parts the cloud
And all the ether fills.
Or as the sweet and steadfast shore
To them that sailed the sea;
Or home to them that ply the oar,
Or leave captivity.
To them that sailed the sea;
Or home to them that ply the oar,
Or leave captivity.
Like any child that cries itself
On mother-breast to sleep,
Lord, let me lie a little while,
Till slumber groweth deep;
On mother-breast to sleep,
Lord, let me lie a little while,
Till slumber groweth deep;
So deep that neither love nor life
Shall stir its calm repose—
Beyond the stress of mortal strife,
The strain of mortal woes
Shall stir its calm repose—
Beyond the stress of mortal strife,
The strain of mortal woes
Spare me this hour to sleep, before
Thy sleepless bliss is given;
Give me a day of rest on earth,
Before the work of Heaven!
Thy sleepless bliss is given;
Give me a day of rest on earth,
Before the work of Heaven!
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