When tossed on time's tempestuous tide,
By angry storms resistless driven,
One hope can bid our fears subside—
It is the hope of rest in Heaven.
With trusting heart we lift our eyes
Above the dark clouds, tempest-driven,
And view, beyond those troubled skies,
The peaceful, stormless rest of Heaven.
No more to shed the exile's tears,—
No more the heart by anguish riven,—
No longer bent 'neath toilful years,—
How sweet will be the rest of Heaven