Restless thy spirit, poor wandering sinner,

Restless and roving: O, come to thy home!

Return to the arms, to the bosom, of mercy;

The Saviour of sinners invites thce to come.

2 Darkness surrounds thee, and tempests are rising,

Fearful and dangerous the path thou hast trod;

But mercy shines forth in the rainbow of promise,

To welcome the wanderer home to his God.

3 Peace to the storm in thy soul shall be spoken,

Guilt from thy bosom be banished away;

And heaven’s sweet breezes, o’er death’s rolling billows,

Shall waft thee at last to the regions of day.