Come sit here close beside me and take my hand in thine,
And tell me of the happy home I think will soon be mine;
Oh, tell me of the river and of the garden fair,
And of the tree of life that waves its healing branches there!

And tell me of the love of God who gave his only Son
To die and suffer on the cross for deeds that I have done;
And tell to me the holy words the blessed Jesus spake
When from the courts of Heaven he came, an exile for my sake.

I love to hear how Mary sat at the Redeemer's feet,—
I wish I could have been there too, I would have shared her seat;
I envy much the little group that met at Martha's board
To listen to the gentle voice of him whom they adored.

I envy those rude fishermen who rowed him o'er the sea,
Who walked with him and talked with him as I now talk to thee;
I envy those who brought their sick, just at the close of day,
That they might be restored to health when Jesus passed that way.

Had I been living then I know I would have joined the crowd—
"Have mercy, oh have mercy, Lord!" I would have cried aloud.
Thou sayest that I still may go and tell him all my grief,
And go I will; "Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief."

I know my heart is very hard, I feel the load within;
But in the blood of Jesus Christ I wash away my sin;
I lay my burden at his feet while to his cross I cling;
I do so long to hear him speak death seems a blessed thing.

Now kneel here close beside me and lift thy voice in prayer
That I may say his will be done whatever I may bear,
Oh, I should love to work for him, if that could be his will,
But pray that I may be resigned—may suffer and be still.