An Hour With Thee

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Sep 19, 1907

An Hour With Thee

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, to spend an 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.