Go Ad-Free
If you regularly use Hymnary.org, you might benefit from eliminating ads. Consider buying a subscription.
1 Lord what a wretched land is this,
That yields us no supply?
No cheering 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 dangerous waters flow.
3 Yet the dear path to thine abode
Lies thro' this horrid land;
Lord! we would keep the heav'nly road,
And run at thy command.
4 Our souls shall tread the desart through
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 dwell 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 upward still;
Forget these troubles of the ways,
And reach at Zion's hill.
9 See the kind angels at the gates,
Inviting us to come;
There Jesus the fore-runner waits,
To welcome trav'llers 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 glories to the king
That brought us safely through;
Our tongues shall never cease to sing,
And endless praise renew.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Lord what a wretched land is this |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1801 |