1 There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found;
They softly lie, and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground.
2 The storm that sweeps the wintry sky
No more disturbs their deep repose
Than summer evening's latest sigh
That shuts the rose.
3 Then, traveler in the vale of tears,
To realms of everlasting light,
Through time's dark wilderness of years
Pursue thy flight.
4 Thy soul, renewed by grace divine,
In God's own image, freed from clay,
In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine,
A star of day.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #875