“Always Weary.”

Jesus, I am always weary,
While within this house of clay;
Come, my Saviour! oh, come quickly!
Bear my longing soul away
To the mansions,
Where is everlasting day.

Always weary, though thou ever
Dost my fainting spirit cheer;
For Thy love my love doth sever
From all once I held so dear;
And hath made me
Bat a pilgrim wandering here.

Always weary, yet believing,
In the ceaseless love of God;
All my weariness relieving,
Pointing upward to my Lord,
Showering blessings,
Which this earth could never afford.

Always weary, like my Saviour,
As this weary world He trod;
Yet rejoicing in His favor,
Yet my feet with gladness shod.
Panting ever,
Soon to reach my home in God.

There for aye my spirit resting,
Never weary shall I be;
There the love of Jesus tasting,
Throughout all eternity.
Ceaseless praises
Will I ever raise to Thee.

There I’ll run, and never weary,
There I’ll walk, and never faint;
There no black cloud, dark and dreary,
Shall bedim Thy ransomed saint.
Clothed in raiment,
Spotless―without stain or taint.

Sweet the songs I then will bring thee,
Standing ‘mid the white-robed throng;
I’ll forget the days so weary,
Days of faith which seemed so long:
And unwearied,
Dwell Thy happy saints among.