I was climbing up life's hill
On a steep and crooked track,
But for every two steps taken
It seemed three I would slip back.
I tried to hang on with my hands
And dug my heels in too;
But in the end I'd slide back down
Injured and feeling through.
So, up again I'd push
But that hill it seemed to grow
Into a mountain fortified
With a precipice below.
The load I bore was heavy
It would force me to the ground
But as I struggled to my feet,
I heard a little sound.
A voice upon my ear did ask
'Why is it you delay
if you wish to climb this mountain
why don't you stop to pray ?'
It was then that I remembered
Those words I now love best,
'Come to me you heavy laden
and I shall give you rest.'
Matthew 11:28