1 In weariness and pain,
By sins and fears opprest,
I turn me to my Rest again,
My soul's eternal Rest:
2 The Lamb that died for me,
And still my load doth bear,--
To Jesus' streaming wounds I flee,
And find my quiet there.
3 Jesus, was ever grief,
Was ever love like Thine?
Thy sorrow, Lord, is my relief,
Thy life hath ransom'd mine.
4 Oh, may I rise with Thee,
And soar to things above,
And spend a blest eternity
In praise of dying Love.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | In weariness and pain |
Meter: | S. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Christ: our Rest; Christians: their life and experience; Consolation(4 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: C. Wesley |