1 O, where shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?
'Twere vain the ocean depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole:
2 The world can never give
The rest for which we sigh;
'Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.
3 In Thee we end our quest;
Alone are found in Thee
The life of perfect love, -- the rest