1 I walk a lonely pilgrim here,
O’er life’s uneven way;
My aching heart keeps hoping, for
A bright and better day;
A glorious home, a goodly land,
The blessèd, heavenly rest;
And well I know that land is near,
The home of all who’re blest.

2 I walk alone, and oft am sad,
And fall the briny tears;
My heart is grieved with trials sore,
And pressed with many cares.
The better land no sorrow knows—
There, hushed is every sigh;
The Savior’s hand in kindness wipes
The tear-drop from each eye.

3 I walk alone, and yet am glad,
The blessèd promise’s given,
To cheer the heart—the lowly one,
Towards that promised Heaven.
The humble path my Savior walked,
I scorn it not to tread;
The frowns and scoffs my Savior bore
May fall upon my head.

4 I stand upon His precious word,
My soul rejoiceth free,
The glorious light the Gospel gives,
Is light that shines for me.
I’ll suffer now, I’ll triumph then;
I’ll die for Jesus here,
In that bright world I’ll live again,
A conqueror’s crown to wear.