1.There is sweet rest for feet now weary, In the rugged, upward way; There is a morn when midnight dreary Shall be lost in perfect day. 2.For that blest morn our hearts are longing, When shall end earth's night of woe; When, through those pearly portals thronging, Mortal cares we'll leave below. 3.Soon to that city, bright, eternal, Weary pilgrims all shall go; Soon we shall rest in pastures vernal, Where life's waters ceaseless flow. 4.Father above, in mercy guide us To those mansions of the blest; Safe in the Rock of Ages hide us Till we gain our final rest.