O com­fort to the drea­ry!
O joy to the op­pressed!
Come un­to Me, ye wea­ry,
And I will give you rest.
O come in all your weak­ness!
Ye sons of guilt and woe;
And learn of Him with meek­ness,
Who stooped for us so low.

Ye slaves of ser­vile er­ror,
Wearied with fruit­less pains,
Whose faith is doubt and ter­ror,
Believe, and lose your chains.
Renounce the su­per­sti­tion
To Christ’s light yoke pre­ferred;
And turn from vain tra­di­tion
To His re­deem­ing word.

Ye who the world have court­ed,
And suf­fered from its spite;
Ye who with sin have sport­ed,
And felt its ser­pent-bite;
Come, learn, your fol­lies quit­ting,
That this world’s gain is loss;
To His mild rule sub­mit­ting,
Who bore for you the cross.

O come, and make the tri­al!
His ser­vice is re­lease;
If hard the self-de­ni­al,
Its fruit is joy and peace.
His grace, your souls de­fend­ing,
Shall nerve you for the strife:
Peace all your steps at­tend­ing;
The prize, im­mort­al life.