a man relaxing

There is rest for the weary soul,
There is rest in the Saviour’s love;
There is rest in the grace that has made me whole-
That seeks out those that rove.

There is rest in the tender love
That has trodden our path below;
That has given us a place in the realms above,
But can all our sorrows know.

There is rest in the calming grace
That flows from those realms above;
What rest in the thought-we shall see His face,
Who has given us to know His love!

There is rest in the midst of grief,
For grief’s been the proof of love;
'Tis sweet in that love to find relief,
When the sorrows of earth we prove.

There is rest in the Saviour’s heart
Who never turned sorrow away,
But has found, in what sin had made our part,
The place of His love’s display.

There is rest in the blessed yoke
That knows no will but His;
That learns, from His path and the words He spoke,
What that loving patience is.

Where He too has gone before,
Is the path which we have to tread;
And it leads to the rest where sorrow’s o’er-
To the place where His steps have led.

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