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A PRAYER

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · May 17, 1899

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 25, No. 20.

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A PRAYER.

I AM weary, O, so weary! Cares of life do press me sore; And I long to rest in heaven, Where dark sorrows come no more.
Heavenly Father, guide me gently Through this dark and tangled wild; Take my hand, dear, loving Father, Guide, O, guide Thy weary child!
Loved of earth have left me, Father, Sad and lone henceforth to be; Dark the clouds that shade my pathway; Helplessly I cling to Thee.
Closer in Thine arms enfold me; Let me lean upon Thy breast; Shield me from the tempter's power; Give the heavy-laden rest.
Take this wayward heart I give Thee, Saviour, make me all like Thee; Fill me with Thyself, I pray Thee, Till Thine image Thou canst see.
When at last my work is finished, And my record stands complete, Take me to Thyself, dear Father, Where there's rest for weary feet.