The Hour of Peaceful Rest

There is an hour of peaceful rest   To mourning wanderers given; There is a joy for souls distrest, A balm for every wounded breast,   ’T is found alone in heaven. There is a soft, a downy bed,   Far from these shades of even— A couch for weary mortals spread, Where they may rest the aching head,   And find repose, in heaven. There is a home for weary souls   By sin and sorrow driven; When tossed on life’s tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,   And all is drear but heaven. There faith lifts up her cheerful eye,   To brighter prospects given; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly,   And all serene in heaven. There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,   And joys supreme are given; There rays divine disperse the gloom: Beyond the confines of the tomb   Appears the dawn of heaven.