All you who seek a comfort sure
In trouble and distress,
Whatever sorrow vex the mind,
Whatever griefs oppress,
Jesus, who gave Himself for you
Upon the cross to die,
Let there His heart for love be pierced:
Oh, to that heart draw nigh.
You hear how kindly He invites;
You hear His words so blest:
"All you what labor come to Me,
And I will give you rest."
Christ Jesus, joy of saints on high,
The hope of sinners here,
Attracted by those loving words
To you we lift our prayer.
Latin, 18th c., tr. by Edward Caswall, 1814-1878, public domain
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