Come unto me, when shadows darkly gather,

When the sad heart is weary and distrest,

Seeking for comfort from your Heavenly Father,

Come unto me, and I will give you rest!

Ye who have mourned when the spring-flowers were taken,

When the ripe fruit fell richly to the ground,

When the loved slept, in brighter homes to waken,

Where their pale brows with spirit-wreaths are crowned;

Large are the mansions in thy Father’s dwelling,

Glad are the homes that sorrows never dim;

Sweet are the harps in holy music swelling,

Soft are the tones which raise the heavenly hymn;

There, like an Eden blossoming in gladness,

Bloom the fair flowers the earth too rudely pressed;

Come unto me, all ye who droop in sadness,

Come unto me, and I will give you rest.