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!