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Reformed Praise
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O Weary Saint
O weary saint cast down, Who mourns in barren field, Whose heart and flesh now fail And naught but weeping yield– When fears increase as life departs, Where is the balm for broken hearts?
The weary Savior died And in the grave was sown To bear the wrath of God For sin though not His own Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Then He arose from where He lay, The firstfruits of the harvest day.
O weary saint look up For from the barren field Will rise, in Christ, His own With heart and flesh then healed. Our hope is this, that death is gain, Our tears and sighs will not remain.
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