After all there is a weariness that cannot be prevented. It will come on. The work brings it on. The cross brings it on. Sometimes the very walk with God brings it on, for the flesh is weak; and at such moments we hear softer and sweeter than it ever floated in the wondrous air of Mendelssohn, "O rest in the Lord," for it has the sound of an immortal requiem: " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors."

P. 614. - Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895)