There remains a land of rest;
There my Savior’s gone before me,
To fulfill my soul’s request.
He is fitting up my mansion,
Which eternally shall stand,
For my stay shall not be transient,
In that holy, happy land.
Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter,
Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But, in that celestial center,
I a crown of life shall wear.
Death itself shall then be vanquished,
And his sting shall be withdrawn;
Shout for gladness, oh, ye ransomed!
Hail with joy the rising morn.
Sing, oh! sing, ye heirs of glory!
Shout your triumph as you go;
Zion’s gate will open for you,
You shall find an entrance thro’.
Chorus
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for you.
On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming,
There is rest for you.
Wm. Hunter
Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?
To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.
Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?
On Jesus’ bosom naught but calm is found.
Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?
In Jesus’ keeping we are safe, and they.
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
Jesus we know, and He is on the throne.
Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and ours?
Jesus has vanquished death and all its powers.
It is enough: earth’s struggles soon shall cease,
And Jesus call us to heaven’s perfect peace.
Bishop Edward H. Bickersteth
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