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 fur 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 sec.
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.