Christ the Believer’s Rest. Isa. 11. 10; 28. 12

W. Gadsby    C.M.

Jesus, thou art our only rest
From sin, and guilt, and fears;
We love to lean upon thy breast,
And on thee cast our cares.

With anxious care and painful thought,
We toiled and toiled again;
True holiness was what we sought,
But this we sought in vain.

Stripped naked, and exposed to shame,
We loud for mercy cried;
The Lord gave faith to eye the Lamb,
And fasten in his side.

The works of nature, bad or good,
Availèd nothing here;
Faith viewed the Saviour’s precious blood,
And banished guilt and fear.

[Here’s life, and light, and holiness,
And righteousness divine;
A boundless treasure, all of grace,
And faith says, All is mine.]

O what a rest is Christ to me!
How precious and how true!
From guilt and sin he sets me free,
And gives me glory too.

I have, I want no rest beside;
Here’s all a God can give;
Here would I constantly abide,
And every moment live.


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