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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, October 8, 1867

WEARINESS AND REST.

Saviour, I come to thee— A weary child, with pain and care oppressed; O, let me lean this aching, burdened heart Upon thy loving breast!

The way is very dark; I cannot see it, Lord, through these my fears, Take thou my hand, and draw me up to thee, Through all the lonely years.

I have no strength, dear Lord: O, let me lie where I can touch thy feet, And gaze up from the dust into thine eyes, Thou art so true and sweet.

And come, Oh, come to me! And raise me to thine arms, and teach me there The strange, deep secrets of thy love, and bend To listen to my prayer.

Speak to me soft and low: My spirit yearneth for one little word To cheer the still, sad silence of my life— One word from thee, my Lord.

Speak to me, O my God! There are sweet voices falling on my ear, Long known, long loved, but in my inmost soul Their tones I cannot hear.

But thou wilt speak to me; And, as the river falls into the sea And sinks to sleep, so this my wearied heart Shall find its rest in thee.