Art thou weary, art thou languid,
Art thou sore distressed?
“Come to Me,” saith One, “and, coming,
Be at rest!”
Hath He marks to lead me to Him,
If He be my Guide?
In His feet and hands are wound-prints,
And His side.
Hath He diadem as Monarch
That His brow adorns?
Yea, a crown in very surety,
But of thorns!
If I find Him, if I follow,
What my pathway here?
Many a sorrow, many a labour,
Many a tear.
If I still hold closely to Him,
What hath He at last?
Sorrow vanquished, labour ended,
If I ask Him to receive me,
Will He say me nay?
Not till earth and not till heaven
Finding, following, keeping, struggling,
Is He sure to bless?
Saints, apostles, prophets, martyrs,