Come Ye Yourselves Apart

Come ye your­selves apart and rest awhile;

Weary

I know it

of the press and throng

Wipe from your brow the sweat and dust of toil

And in My qui­et strength again be strong.

Come ye aside from all the world holds dear

For con­verse which the world has nev­er known

Alone with Me and with My Fa­ther here

With Me and with My Fa­ther not alone.

Come

tell Me all that ye have said and done

Your vic­to­ries and fail­ures

hopes and fears.

I know how hard­ly souls are wooed and won:

My choic­est wreaths are alw­ays wet with tears.

Come ye and rest: the jour­ney is too great

And ye will faint be­side the way and sink:

The Bread of Life is here for you to eat

And here for you the Wine of Love to drink.

Then

fresh from con­verse with your Lord

re­turn

And work till day­light soft­ens in­to ev’n;

The brief hours are not lost in which ye learn

More of your mas­ter and His rest in Heav’n.