Rest of the saints in glory,
The laborer's bright reward,
How constant sounds before me,
"Forever with the Lord."
Rest, through the toil of Jesus,
For saints there doth remain;
An endless rest, and precious;
A rest from sin and pain.
My longing heart, now pillowed
On Jesus' breast of love,
Hath oft to me foreshadowed,
That blissful rest above;
But, O my soul, remember,
None shall be weary there;
The ransomed without number
God's blessèd rest will share.
His face in radiant glory,
With rapture they will see;
His wounds will tell a story,
To swell the jubilee!
The subjects of salvation
Will praise Him ever there;
While all the new creation
God's endless rest will share.