| THERE is an hour of peaceful rest | |
| To mourning wanderers given; | |
| There is a joy for souls distrest, | |
| A balm for every wounded breast, | |
| 'T is found alone in heaven. | 5 |
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| There is a soft, a downy bed, | |
| Far from these shades of even— | |
| A couch for weary mortals spread, | |
| Where they may rest the aching head, | |
| And find repose, in heaven. | 10 |
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| There is a home for weary souls | |
| By sin and sorrow driven; | |
| When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, | |
| Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, | |
| And all is drear but heaven. | 15 |
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| There faith lifts up her cheerful eye, | |
| To brighter prospects given; | |
| And views the tempest passing by, | |
| The evening shadows quickly fly, | |
| And all serene in heaven. | 20 |
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| There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, | |
| And joys supreme are given; | |
| There rays divine disperse the gloom: | |
| Beyond the confines of the tomb | |
| Appears the dawn of heaven. | 25 |