 | A Small Collection of Hymns |  |
The True Rest. A Thought on Ps. cxvi.
Return, O Thou, for whom I mourn,
And take me to thy breast;
That so my heart constrain'd may turn
To thee her only rest.
And take me to thy breast;
That so my heart constrain'd may turn
To thee her only rest.
That rest that wearied spirits seek;
In nothing found below,
Save in the bosom of the meek,
The meek alone can know.
In nothing found below,
Save in the bosom of the meek,
The meek alone can know.
That rest, my God, from every want,
That can our quiet wound;
That mighty cordial of the faint,
That in thy strength is found.
That can our quiet wound;
That mighty cordial of the faint,
That in thy strength is found.
18
Come then, in every breath we feel,
And breathe the peace unknown;
'Till in thy joy this truth we seal,
Thyself and this art one!
And breathe the peace unknown;
'Till in thy joy this truth we seal,
Thyself and this art one!
Then shall we know as we are known,
And see as we are seen;
The incarnate God upon his throne,
And seraphs one with men!
And see as we are seen;
The incarnate God upon his throne,
And seraphs one with men!
| A Small Collection of Hymns | |