A heavenly whisper, Come to me!
2 It tells me of a place of rest;
It tells me where my soul may flee:
O! to the weary, faint, opprest,
How sweet the bidding, Come to me!
3 Come, for all else must fail and die;
Earth is no resting-place for thee;
To heaven direct thy weeping eye;
I am thy portion; Come to me!
4 O voice of mercy, voice of love!