Come, says Jesus' sacred voice, Come, and make My paths your choice; I will guide you to your home; Weary pilgrim, hither come! Thou who, houseless, sole, forlorn, Long hast borne the proud world's scorn, Long hast roamed this barren waste, Weary pilgrim, hither haste! Ye who, tossed on beds of pain, Seek for ease, but seek in vain; Ye whose swollen and sleepless eyes Long to see the morning rise; Ye, by fiercer anguish torn, In strong remorse for guilt who mourn, Here repose your heavy care: A wounded spirit who can bear? Sinner, come! for here is found Balm that flows for every wound, Peace that ever shall endure, Rest, eternal, sacred, sure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET ALL FOOLS' CALENDER by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON A POEM FROM BOULDER RIDGE by JAMES GALVIN DEMOS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LANCELOT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GARDEN WIRELESS by CARL SANDBURG LINES ON LEAVING THE BEDFORD STR. SCHOOL HOUSE by GEORGE SANTAYANA |