Ti. ere is a vuice that rings abuve the clamunr And business of the world, That calleth often thiough the midnight bílenoe Ere sleep's soft wingfl be f urled. lt speaketh unto souls of men sin burdened, To hearts with loss oppressed - 'Bring hither your deep woes, your hidden sorrows. And I will give you rest. The world may give you af ter patiënt Boeking, Some ground whereon to build Hopes that should keep an empty heart from aching, If they might be fulfi led. "Great works may tempt you. on your strength relying, To do and spend your best; üut these will fail to comfort you in dying - Then I will give you rest," O ye who journey, woru and f aint with hunger, As through strange paths ye roam, Hark to this Voice that bids yon stray no longer Afar from f rienda and home; Cast off the shackles that bo long have bound you, Whose weight hath sorely prest, And hear the voice that whispers ha ving f on nd you, "And I will give vou rest."