Explore "Come Unto Me" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Come unto me, the Master says: -- / But how? I am not good; / No thankful song my heart will raise, / Nor even wish it could.
I am not sorry for the past, / Nor able not to sin; / The weary strife would ever last / If once I should begin!
Hast thou no burden then to bear? / No action to repent? / Is all around so very fair? / Is thy heart quite content?
Hast thou no sickness in thy soul? / No labour to endure? / Then go in peace, for thou art whole; / Thou needest not his cure.
Ah, mock me not! I often sigh; / I have a nameless grief, / A faint sad pain -- but such that I / Can look for no relief.
Come, come to him who made thy heart; / Come weary and oppressed; / To come to Jesus is thy part, / His part to give thee rest.
New grief, new hope he will bestow, / Thy grief and pain to quell; / Into thy heart himself will go, / And that will make thee well.