H. L. Gilmour

MY soul in sad exile was out on life’s sea,

So burdened with sin and distressed,

Till I heard a sweet voice saying, “Make Me your choice”;

And I entered the “Haven of Rest”

I’ve anchored my soul in the “Haven of Rest,”

I’ll sail the wide seas no more;

The tempest may sweep o’er the wild stormy deep;

In Jesus I’m safe evermore.


I yielded myself to His tender embrace,

And faith taking hold of the Word,

My fetters fell off, and I anchored my soul;

The “Haven of Rest” is my Lord.


The song of my soul, since the Lord made me whole,

Has been the old story so blest,

Of Jesus who’ll save whosoever will have

A home in the “Haven of Rest”


How precious the thought that we all may recline,

like John the beloved and blest,

On Jesus’ strong arm, where no tempest can harm,

Secure in the “Haven of Rest:’


O come to the Savior, He patiently waits

To save by His power divine;

Come, anchor your soul in the “Haven of Rest,”

And say, “My Beloved is mine.”


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