Lean on my ample arm
O thou depressed!
And I will bid the storm
Cease in thy breast.
Whate'er thy lot may be
On life's complaining sea,
If thou wilt come to me,
Thou shalt have rest.
Lift up thy tearful eyes
Sad heart, to me;
I am the sacrifice offered for thee.
In me thy pain shall cease,
In me is thy release,
In me thou shalt have peace,
Eternally.
- Theodore E. Curtis
