No resting place! oh! sad, oppressive thought!
The overburdened heart opprest with grief,
Must bear its weight o’er sad reflection’s tide,
Fearing at last the fate of unbelief. PSAS 12.7
Is there one here, without one beam of hope?
Oppressed, desponding, bordering on despair?
Still sinking ‘neath gloom’s dark and heavy cloud,
Not thinking e’er one cheering boon to share? PSAS 13.1
Lie still, e’en here, and search the hidden cause;
O’er every sin has victory been won?
Then trust in God o’er this dark, dreary way,
And say, Dear Lord, thy will, not mine, be done. PSAS 13.2
The broken heart, the humble, contrite one,
God will relieve from sin’s dark, heavy load;
He will reveal himself a present help,
And make for us a sure and safe abode. PSAS 13.3
For such as these a resting place remains,
When earth’s dark scenes and trials all are o’er;
A home in Heaven where saints and angels are
Chanting glad songs of glory evermore. PSAS 13.4