Hymn H157

O! comfort to the dreary:
O! joy to the oppressed:
Come unto Me, ye weary,
And I will give you rest.
O, come in all your weakness,
Come with your load of woe;
And learn of Him with meekness
All righteousness to know.

Enslaved of Romish error,
Worn out with fruitless pains,
Reapers of doubt and terror,
Come, cast away your chains.
Renounce the superstition
By all the world preferred,
And turn from vain tradition
To His redeeming word.

Ye who the world have courted,
And suffered from its spite;
Ye who with sin have sported,
And felt its serpent bite;
Come learn, your follies quitting,
That this world's gain is loss;
To Christ's light yoke submitting,
Come and take up the cross.

O, come and make the trial;
Christ's service is release;
If hard the selfdenial,
Its fruit is joy and peace.
His word your faith defending,
Shall nerve you for the strife;
Peace all your steps attending
The prize, immortal life.