1 Oh! what a wretched Land is this,
That yields us no Supply,
No chearing Fruits, no wholesome Trees,
Nor Streams of living Joy?
2 But pricking thorns thro' all the Ground,
And Mortal Poisons grow,
And all the rivers that are found
With dang'rous Waters flow.
3 Yet the dear Path to thine Abode
Lies thro' this horrid Land;
Lord! we would keep that heav'nly Road,
And run at thy Command.
[4 Our souls shall tread the Desart thro'
With undiverted Feet;
And Faith and flaming Zeal subdue
The Terrors that we meet.]
[5 A Thousand Savage Beasts of Prey
Around the Forest roam;
But Judah's Lion guards the Way,
And guides the Strangers Home.]
[6 Long Nights and Darkness dwells below,
With scarce a twinkling Ray:
But the bright World to which we go
Is Everlasting Day.
[7 By glimm'ring Hopes, and gloomy Fears,
We trace the sacred Road,
Thro, dismal Deeps and dang'rous Snares,
We make our Way to God.]
8 Our Journey is a thorny Maze,
But we march Upwards still,
Forget these Troubles of the Ways,
And reach at Sion's Hill.
[9 See the kind Angels at the Gates,
Inviting us to come!
There Jesus the Fore Runner waits,
To welcome Trav'lers Home!]
10 There on a green and flow'ry Mount,
Our Weary Souls shall sit,
And with transporting Joys recount
The Labours of our Feet:
[11 No vain Discourse shall fill our Tongue,
Nor Trifles vex our Ear.
Infinite Grace shall be our Song,
And God rejoice to hear.]
12 Eternal Glory to the King
That brought us safely through;
Our Tongue shall never cease to sing,
And Endless Praise renew.
|First Line:||Oh! what a wretched Land is this|
|Title:||The Pilgrimage of Saints, Or, Earth and Heaven|
|Topic:||Pilgrimage of Saints|