The Morning of Joy


HE shed His precious blood,
And this is rest.
He made our peace with God,
And this is rest.
He died upon the tree,
And this is rest.
He rose again for thee,
And this is rest.
He lives and intercedes,
And this is rest.
For us He lives and pleads,
And this is rest.
Rest, then, in Him, O man,
With weariness oppressed;
Rest thou, in Him believe
Who is the sinner’s Rest.
Thy every load on Him,
Whate’er that burden be,
Cast in the plenitude of faith;
The resting-place is free.
He bids thee come to Him;
In love He beckons thee;
He speaks the words of grace,
“Come, and find rest in Me.”

Horatius Bonar, “Until the Day Break”: And Other Hymns and Poems Left Behind, (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1890), 15–16.

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