1 Oh, where shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?
'Twere vain the ocean's depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole.
2 The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh;
'Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.
3 Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years--
And all that life is love.
4 There is a death whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath:
Oh, what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death!
5 Lord God of truth and grace!
Teach us that death to shun:
Lest we be driven from Thy face,
And evermore undone.
6 Here would we end our quest;
Alone are found in Thee
The life of perfect love, the rest
Of immortality.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Oh, where shall rest be found |
Meter: | S. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Christians: their life and experience; Death: anticipation of; Rest |
Notes: | Author from index: Montgomery |