Must future time be spent in tears
For sinful days of bygone years?
Assuage my grief, dispel my gloom--
There is no rest within the tomb.
Oh, would the tomb console my bones,
Or would the earth resound the groans
Of broken spirits, chained in grief--
Celestial Being, bring relief!
When I cried thus to God above,
He whispered, “Rest within my love.”
“But Lord,” I cried, “to enter in,
I must be freed from guilt of sin.”
He answered back in sweetest tone,
“One made your sins His very own;
Believe on my Beloved Son--
Believe, and rest—the work is done.”