This, this is rest, Lord Jesus,
Alone with Thyself to be,
The desert is a gladsome place,
With Thy blest company.
Oh! sweet to hear Thy tender voice,
Bidding me " come apart,"
Such rest for throbbing, aching mind—
Quiet for weary heart.
Yes, this is rest, Lord Jesus,
Alone with Thee to be,
And when I sigh for fellowship,
To find it all in Thee.
Thy saints on earth-how dear they are,
Their love is passing sweet,
But I would leave them all to sit
Alone at Thy dear feet.
Such precious rest, Lord Jesus,
Alone with Thee to be,
Thy secret words of love to hear;
Thy look of love to see.
To feel my hand held fast by Thine—
To know Thee always near,
A happy child alone with Thee,
My heart can nothing fear.
This, this is rest, Lord Jesus,
Alone with Thee to be,
The desert is a happy spot,
With Thy blest company.
Amid the throng I might forget
That I am all Thine own,
I bless Thee for the " desert place:"
With Thee, my Lord, alone.