Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Heavenly Rest

The Heavenly Rest.

There is an hour of heavenly rest To mournful wanderers given;There is a tear for souls distrest,A balm for every wounded breast— 'Tis found above—in heaven!

There is a soft, a downy bed, 'Tis sweet as breath of even;A couch for weary mortals spread,Where they may rest the aching head, And find repose—in heaven!

There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven;When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, And all is drear—but heaven!

There faith lifts up the tearful eye, The heart with anguish riven;And views the tempest passing by,The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene is heaven!

The fragrant flowers immortal bloom, And joys supreme are given;There rays divine disperse the gloom;Beyond the confines of the tomb Appears the dawn of heaven!