With Tearful Eyes I Look Around

With tear­ful eyes I look around;

Life seems a dark and stor­my sea;

Yet

midst the gloom

I hear a sound

A heav­en­ly whis­per

Come to Me.

It tells me of a place of rest;

It tells me where my soul may flee:

O to the wea­ry

faint

op­pressed

How sweet the bid­ding

Come to Me.

When the poor heart with ang­uish learns

That earth­ly props re­signed must be

And from each brok­en cis­tern turns

It hears the ac­cents

Come to Me.

When against sin I strive in vain

And can­not from its yoke get free

Sinking be­neath the hea­vy chain

The words ar­rest me

Come to Me.

When na­ture shud­ders

loath to part

From all I love

en­joy

and see;

When a faint chill steals o’er my heart

A sweet voice ut­ters

Come to Me.

Come

for all else must fall and die;

Earth is no rest­ing-place for thee;

Heavenward di­rect thy weep­ing eye

I am thy por­tion; come to Me.

O voice of mer­cy! voice of love!

In con­flict

grief

and ago­ny

Support me

cheer me from above

And gent­ly whis­per

Come to Me.