O WEARY heart, there is a rest for thee!
O truant heart —there is a blessed home,
An isle of gladness on life's wayward sea,
Where storms, that vex the waters, never come.
There trees perennial yield their balmy shade,
There flower-wreath'd hills in sunlit beauty sleep;
There meek streams murmur through the verdant glade —
There heaven bends smiling o'er the placid deep.
Winnow'd by wings immortal that fair isle;
Vocal its air with music from above;
There meets the exile eye a welcoming smile;
There ever speaks a summoning voice of love
Unto the heavy-laden and distress'd, —
"Come unto me, and I will give you rest.''
O truant heart —there is a blessed home,
An isle of gladness on life's wayward sea,
Where storms, that vex the waters, never come.
There trees perennial yield their balmy shade,
There flower-wreath'd hills in sunlit beauty sleep;
There meek streams murmur through the verdant glade —
There heaven bends smiling o'er the placid deep.
Winnow'd by wings immortal that fair isle;
Vocal its air with music from above;
There meets the exile eye a welcoming smile;
There ever speaks a summoning voice of love
Unto the heavy-laden and distress'd, —
"Come unto me, and I will give you rest.''