The Little Birds Now Seek Their Nest

The lit­tle birds now seek their nest;

The ba­by sleeps on mo­ther’s breast;

Thou giv­est all Thy child­ren rest

God of the wea­ry.

The sail­or pray­eth on the sea:

The lit­tle ones at mo­ther’s knee;

Now comes the pe­ni­tent to Thee

God of the wea­ry.

The orp­han puts away his fears;

The trou­bled hopes for hap­pi­er years;

Thou dri­est all the mourn­er’s tears

God of the wea­ry.

Thou send­est rest to tired feet

To lit­tle toil­ers slum­ber sweet

To ach­ing hearts re­pose com­plete

God of the wea­ry.

In grief

per­plex­ity

or pain

None ev­er come to Thee in vain;

Thou mak­est life a joy again

God of the wea­ry.

We sleep that we may wake re­newed

To serve Thee as Thy child­ren should

With love

and zeal

and gra­ti­tude

God of the wea­ry.