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L. M. 6 lines.
Come unto me, all ye that labor.
Matt. 11:28.
Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan
Hath taught each scene the notes of woe;
Cease thy complaint, suppress thy groan,
And let thy tears forget to flow:
Behold, the precious balm is found
To lull thy pain, to heal thy wound.
2 Come, freely come, by sin oppressed;
On Jesus cast thy weighty load;
In him thy refuge find, thy rest,
Safe in the mercy of thy God:
Thy God’s thy Saviour—glorious word!
O, hear, believe, and bless the Lord!