An Hour With Him

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Feb 11, 1904

My heart is tired, so tired to-night— How endless seems the strife! Day after day the restlessness Of all this weary life! I come to lay the burden down That so oppresseth me, And, shutting all the world without, To spend an hour with thee, Dear Lord, To spend an hour with thee!

I would forget a little while The bitterness of fears, The anxious thoughts that crowd my life, The buried hopes of years; Forget that mortal’s weary toil My patient care must be. A tired child, I come to-night, To spend an hour with thee, Dear Lord, One little hour with thee!

A foolish, wayward child, I know, So often wandering; A weak, complaining child—but O! Forgive my murmuring, And fold me to thy breast, Thou who hast died for me, And let me feel ’tis peace to rest A little hour with thee, Dear Lord, One little hour with thee!

—The British Weekly.