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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 3, 1865

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 25, No. 6.

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Rest.

Not here, within this desert drear, Find I my home; The beating sun brings weariness and death, The hot earth glows my toiling feet beneath, The shadows fall but rest not on my path, As day by day I roam.
Not here, where falls the blinding tear, Find I my home, Where hearts that love too fondly must be rent, Where cloud with sunshine, storm with calm is blent, Where joys that make us with the world content, Vanish like billow foam.
Not here, harassed by gloomy fear, Find I my home, So often tempted from the onward way, So often wandering from my Lord away, Shuddering, as through some devious paths I stray, Lest short of Life I come.
'Tis there, within a purer air, My home is given; Where Jesus reigns, the Lamb for me once slain, Where sorrows never come, nor sin, nor pain, Where saints who part on earth ne'er part again, The perfect rest of Heaven.—Observer.