Art thou weary, art thou languid,
Art thou sore distrest?
" Come to me," saith One, " and coming
Be at rest!"

Hath he marks to lead me to him,
If he be my guide?
" In his feet and hands are wound-prints,
And his side."

Hath he diadem as monarch
That his brow adorns?
" Yea, a crown, in very surety,
But of thorns!"

If I find him, if I follow,
What his guerdon here?
" Many a sorrow, many a labour,
Many a tear."

If I still hold closely to him,
What hath he at last?
" Sorrow vanquished, labour ended,
Jordan past!"

If I ask him to receive me,
Will he say me nay?
" Not till earth, and not till heaven
Pass away!"

Finding, following, keeping, struggling,
Is he sure to bless?
" Angels, martyrs, prophets, virgins,