Joseph Anstice (1808–1836)

“COME to a desert place apart,

And rest a little while;”

So spake the Christ, when limbs and heart

Wax’d faint and sick through toil.

High communings with God He sought:

But, where He sought them, found

The restless crowd together brought,

And labour’s weary round.

Then not a thought to self was given,

Nor breath’d a word of blame;

He fed their souls with bread from Heaven,

Then stay’d their sinking frame.

Turn’d He, when that long task is done,

To sleep fatigue away?

When on the desert sank the sun,

The Saviour waked to pray.

O perfect Pattern from above,

So strengthen us, that ne’er

Prayer keep us back from works of love,

Nor works of love from prayer.