The Pilgrim’s Consolation.  Ps. 34. 19;  Heb. 11. 13

J. Swain                                     L.M.

Pilgrims we are, to Canaan bound;
Our journey lies along this road;
This wilderness we travel round,
To reach the city of our God.

And here as travellers we meet,
Before we reach the fields above,
To sit around our Master’s feet,
And tell the wonders of his love.

Oft have we seen the tempest rise;
The world and Satan, hell and sin,
Like mountains, seemed to reach the skies,
With scarce a gleam of hope between.

But still, as oft as troubles come,
Our Jesus sends some cheering ray;
And that strong arm shall guide us home
Which thus protects us by the way.

A few more days, or months, or years,
In this dark desert to complain;
A few more sighs, a few more tears,
And we shall bid adieu to pain.


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