556 Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow

1 Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest; Cares of to-day and burdens of to-morrow, Blessings implored and sins to be confessed; We come before Thee at Thy gracious word, And lay them at Thy feet, Thou knowest, Lord. 2 Thou knowest all the past; how long and blindly On the dark mountains the lost wanderer strayed; How the Good Shepherd followed, and how kindly He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid; He healed the bleeding wounds and soothed the pain, And brought back life, and hope, and strength again. 3 Thou knowest all the present; each temptation, Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear; All to each one assigned, of tribulation, Or to beloved ones, than self more dear; All passive memories, as we journey on, Longings for vanished smiles and voices gone. 4 Thou knowest all the future; gleams of gladness By stormy clouds so quickly overcast, Hours of sweet fellowship and parting sadness, And the dark river to be crossed at last. O what could hope and confidence afford To tread the path, but this: Thou knowest, Lord? 5 Thou knowest, not alone as God all-knowing; As man, our mortal weakness Thou hast proved, On earth with purest sympathies o'erflowing, O Savior, Thou hast wept, and Thou hast loved; And love and sorrow still to Thee may come, And find a hiding place, a rest, a home. 6 Therefore we come, Thy gentle call obeying, And lay our sins and sorrows at Thy feet, On everlasting strength our weakness staying, Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete: Then rising and refreshed, we leave Thy throne, And follow on to know as we are known.