My Jesus I am Tired

We’re all weary children sometimes.

My Jesus I am tired,

and the day has been so long,

and I have done so little well,

and done so much so wrong;

now let me lie within your arms,

or simply hold my hand

and let me cry a little while

and know you understand.

Please kiss me on the forehead

as you turn the lights down low

and lie your face against my own

as off to dreams I go.

Then pull the blankets up around

my neck and hold me tight,

and sit beside my bed and whisper

through the long dark night.