On His pilgrimage of woe,
When our Saviour walk'd below,
He, whose voice awoke the dead,
Had not where to lay His head.
Yet, on one sweet hill of rest,
Oft He loved to be a guest,
Where two sister-handmaids dwelt,
In whose home, at home He felt.
Fulneck Hill to-day shall be
Our delightful Bethany;
Dwell, Lord Jesus, where we dwell,
God with us, Immanuel!
In our hearts, do Thou appear,
Let our spirits feel Thee here,
Till, call'd hence by Thee, in love,
To Thy Bethany above.
|First Line:||On His pilgrimage of woe|
|Title:||On His pilgrimage of woe|