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.