Classic Poem

The Father loves me, and has giv'n
All things into my hand;
All sov'reign pow'r in earth and heav'n,
To order and command.

None but the Father knows the Son,
None but the Son him see;
And only right the Father's known
In, by, and thorough me.

For, lo! I'm seal'd and set apart
A Prophet to display
The secrets of my Father's heart
And bosom, where I lay.

Come then, each lab'ring weary soul,
With sin or sorrow prest;
On me, by faith, your burdens roll,
And I will give you rest.

Take on my yoke, and learn of me,
For lowly is my mind,
And meek to teach you: thus shall ye
Soul-rest and quiet find.

My yoke is easy to the neck
That does it kindly 'brace;
My burden's light, ev'n to the weak,
Through my supporting grace.