With tearful eyes I look around;

Life seems a dark and stormy sea;

Yet midst the gloom I hear a sound,

A heavenly whisper, Come to me!

2 It tells me of a place of rest;

It tells me where my soul may flee:

O! to the weary, faint, opprest,

How sweet the bidding, Come to me!

3 Come, for all else must fail and die;

Earth is no resting-place for thee;

To heaven direct thy weeping eye;

I am thy portion; Come to me!

4 O voice of mercy, voice of love!

In conflict, grief, and agony,

Support me, cheer me from above,

And gently whisper, Come to me!