Art Thou Weary?

ART thou weary, art thou languid,

Art thou sore distrest?

“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 His guerdon 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,

Jordan past.”

If I ask Him to receive me,

Will He say me nay?

“Not till earth, and not till Heav’n

Pass away.”

Finding, following, keeping, struggling,

Is He sure to bless?

“Angels, Martyrs, Prophets, Virgins,

Answer, Yes!”