Art Thou Weary?

Words by the Rev. J. M. Neale, trans. Music by the Rev. Henry W. Baker

"Art thou weary, art thou languid, Art thou sore distressed?”




"Some years ago, ”writes Mr. James A. Watson, of Blackburn, England,” I often visited one of our adult Sunday-school scholars who had just been brought to the knowledge of the Saviour. She was formerly a Roman Catholic, but was brought to our church one Sunday evening by a fellow-worker in a cotton mill. She heard a gospel of full and free salvation, embraced it, and gradually became a faith-filled, consistent Christian. She was laid low with a serious illness, but it was always a pleasure to visit her. On one occasion she told me that the evening before, when she had been left alone for the night, a cloud came over her spirit, the sense of loneliness grew upon her, and she seemed forsaken of God. All looked black, and she dreaded the long, lone night. This was a most unusual thing' and she wondered why it should be so. Just then, in the quiet night, she heard steps on the flags of the foot-way. A man wearing the clogs of the factory operator was coming along, evidently returning late from some religious meeting. He was full of joy, for before he reached the house where my scholar was lying awake, he struck up in a joyful and loud song,

"Art thou weary, art thou languid?

Art thou sore distressed?
'Come to Me,' saith One;
And coming, be at rest!”

The singer, 'an angel in clogs,' went on his way, singing aloud out of a full heart; but deep down into the heart of the lonely woman went the words, 'Be at rest!' Again she cast herself upon the Lord; the cloud parted, peace and rest filled her heart, and she doubted no more."