Come Unto Me, All Ye That Labour And Are Heavy Laden, And I Will Give You Rest. I Gave Myself To Jesus In My Sunny Childhood'S Years, When On My Young, Unsullied Cheek There Lay No Trace Of Tears; I Little Knew What Gift I Gave, Nor Yet What Gift I Took; For Life Without And Life Within Were Each A Sealed-Up Book. But Soon Enough Unfolding Years Brought Sorrow, Toil, And Pain, - Brought Disappointment'S Burning Tears, And Yearnings Wild And Vain; And Then I Learned What Precious Gift In Jesus I Received In That Still Hour Of Childish Trust, When My Young Heart Believed. 'Twas Then I Knew What Arm Unseen Was Round Me 'Mid The Strife, The Blighted Hope, The Toil Uncheered, The Cold, Rude Storms Of Life; And When The Reeds On Which I Leaned All Failed Me One By One, I Clasped My Pierced And Bleeding Hands, And Wept, But Not Alone. For He Was Near Me Midst The Strife, And, Leaning On His Arm, I Trod The Thorny Paths Of Life, Safe Sheltered From All Harm; The While He Whispered To My Heart, "I Gave My Life For Thee! Then, Heavy Laden As Thou Art, Cast All Thy Care On Me!" "On Me! On Me!" - Oh, Gentle Word! - O Sympathy Divine! - O Fount Of Joy, How Deeply Stirred, Within This Heart Of Mine! - O Cool, Sweet Waters, How Ye Stilled The Fever Of My Brain, - And Soothed The Heart-Strings That Had Thrilled With Agonizing Pain! My Own, - My Rock! - The Heavy Tide May Beat In Uproar Dread, Calmly 'Gainst Its Unmoving Side I Rest My Weary Head; - For Well I Know How Deep It Strikes Beneath The Raging Flood - My Soul'S Firm Anchor 'Mid The Strife, My Refuge And My God!