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The pilgrims throng thro' the city gates While the night is falling fast; They go to watch on Calvary's hill Ere the twilight hours are past; Though dark be the way, with eyes of faith, They gaze on His Cross above; And, lo! from each heart, The shadows depart, As they list to His words of love, As they list to His words of love.

"Rest, rest to the weary, Peace, peace to the soul; Tho' life may be dreary, Earth is not thy goal, O lay down thy burden, O come unto Me, I will not forsake thee, I will not forsake thee, I will not forsake thee, Tho' all else should flee."

Far, far, away, o'er the dream of years They hear the voice of the King Where, O Grave, where is thy victory, And where, O Death is thy sting? Captive He leads them for evermore; While weary pilgrims rejoice; For looking on high to the Cross He bore, The faithful shall hear His voice, The faithful shall hear His voice.

"Rest, rest to the weary, Peace, peace to the soul; Tho' life may be dreary, Earth is not thy goal, O lay down thy burden, O come unto Me, I will not forsake thee, I will not forsake thee, I will not forsake thee, Tho' all else should flee."

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