1 My head is low, my heart is sad,
My feet with travel torn,
Yet, O my Saviour, thou art glad
To see thy child return.

2 It was thy love that homeward led,
Thine arm that upward stayed;
It is thy hand which on my head
Is now in mercy laid.

3 O Saviour, in this broken heart
Confirm the trembling will,
Which longs to reach thee where thou art,
Rest in thee, and be still.

4 Within that bosom which hath shed
Both tears and blood for me,
O let me hide this aching head,
Once pressed and blessed by thee.