1 Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish;
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heav'n cannot heal.
2 Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
"Earth has no sorrow that heav'n cannot cure."
3 Here see the Bread of Life; see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above;
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heav'n can remove.
|First Line:||Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish|
|Title:||Come, Ye Disconsolate|
|Author, st. 3:||Thomas Hastings (1831)|
|Author, st. 1, 2:||Thomas Moore (1824)|
|Meter:||11 10 11 10|