p. 1 | OUR REST | AdventAI

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 25, 1860

OUR REST.

[Bro. Smith: The following lines have comforted my heart. I copy them for the Review if you deem them worthy of a place there. A. S. H.]

"The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us." Rom. viii, 18.

My feet are worn and weary with the march Over rough roads and up the steep hill-side: O, city of our God, I fain would see Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide.

My hands are weary, laboring, toiling on, Day after day, for perishable meat: O, city of our God, I fain would rest; I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat.

My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust, Oft rent by briars and thorns that crowd my way, Would fain be made, O Lord, my righteousness, Spotless and white in heaven's unclouded ray.

My eyes are weary looking at the sun, Impiety, and scorn upon the earth: O, city of our God, within thy walls, All, all are clothed upon with the new birth.

My heart is weary of its own deep sin, Sinning, repenting, sinning still alway: When shall my soul thy glorious presence feel, And find its guilt, dear Saviour, washed away?

Patience, poor soul; the Saviour's feet were worn: The Saviour's heart and hands were weary too; His garments stained, and travel-worn and old, His sacred eyes blinded with tears for you.

Love thou the path of sorrow that he trod; Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest: O, city of our God, we soon shall see Thy glorious walls, home of the loved and blest.