“Come to Me, all ye who labor,”
And by care are sorely pressed;
I will bear your heavy burden,
And will give you perfect rest.
Be that burden what it may be,
Sin or sorrow, grief or pain,
Only lay thy load on Jesus,
Full relief shall be thy gain.
Who is He that bids thee do so,
Bids thee cast on Him thy load?
He it is who knows thy sorrows,
Son of Man, and Son of God.
‘Tis for thee He died and liveth,
Now He sits on yonder throne;
He can feel thy deepest anguish,
And can hear thy feeblest groan.
Cast thou all thy care upon Him
Who, in pity, cares for thee;
Then thy heart shall lose its burden,
And thy weary soul be free.
Now relieved of sin’s oppression,
And of every load of care,
Thou wilt love and praise thy Savior
Till thou meet Him in the air—
Meet’st Him on the coming morning,
Day of endless jubilee,
When, in full and blissful union,
Thou with Him shalt ever be.