A Rest Remaineth for the Weary

A rest re­main­eth for the wea­ry;

Arise

sad heart

and grieve no more;

Though long the way

and dark and drea­ry

It end­eth on the gold­en shore.

Before His throne the Lamb will lead thee

On heav’n­ly pas­tures He will feed thee

Cast off thy bur­den

come with haste;

Soon will the toil and strife be end­ed

The wea­ry way which thou hast wend­ed.

Sweet is the rest which thou shalt taste.

The Fa­ther’s house has many a dwell­ing

And there will be a place for thee.

With per­fect love His heart is well­ing

Who loved thee from eter­ni­ty.

His pre­cious blood the Lamb hath giv­en

That thou might’st share the joys of Heav­en

And now He call­eth far and near:

Ye wea­ry souls

cease your re­pin­ing

Come while for you My light is shin­ing;

Come

sweet­est rest awaits you here!

O come

come all

ye weak and wea­ry

Ye souls bowed down with ma­ny a care;

Arise and leave your dun­geons drea­ry

And list­en to His pro­mise fair:

Ye bore your bur­dens meek and low­ly

I will ful­fill My pledge most ho­ly

I’ll be your so­lace and your rest.

Ye are Mine own

I will re­quite you;

Though sin and Sa­tan seek to smite you

Rejoice! Your home is with the blest.

There rest and peace in end­less mea­sure

Shall be ours through eter­ni­ty;

No grief

no care

shall mar our plea­sure

And un­told bliss our lot shall be.

Oh

had we wings to hast­en yon­der—

No more o’er earth­ly ills to pon­der—

To join the glad

tri­umph­ant band!

Make haste

my soul

for­get all sad­ness;

For peace awaits thee

joy and glad­ness—

The per­fect rest is nigh at hand.