1 O I love to talk with Jesus, for it smoothes the rugged road;
And it seems to help me onward, when I faint beneath my load;
When my heart is crush'd with sorrow and my eyes with tears are dim,
There is naught can yield me comfort like a little talk with Him.
2 Oft I tell Him I am weary and I fain would be at rest;
That I'm daily, hourly longing to repose upon His breast;
And He answers me so kindly in the tend'rest tones of love,
"I am coming soon to take thee to My happy Home above."
3 Though the way is long and dreary to that far-off distant clime,
Yet I know that my Redeemer journeys with me all the time;
And the more I come to know Him, and His wondrous grace explore,
How my longing groweth stronger still to know Him more and more.
4 So, I'll wait a little longer till my Lord's appointed time,
And along the upward pathway still my pilgrim feet shall climb;
Soon within my Father's dwelling, where the many mansions be,
I shall see my blessed Saviour, and He then will talk with me.