_The Conquering Pilgrim._
I saw a way-worn trav'ler,
In tattered garments clad,
And struggling up the mountain,
It seemed that he was sad;
His back was laden heavy,
His strength was almost gone,
Yet he shouted as he journeyed,
Deliverance will come.
Ref.--Then palms of victory, crowns of glory,
Palms of victory I shall wear.
2 The summer sun was shining,
The sweat was on his brow,
His garments worn and dusty,
His step seemed very slow;
But he kept pressing onward,
For he was wending home;
Still shouting as he journeyed,
Deliverance will come.
3 The songsters in the arbor
That stood beside the way
Attracted his attention,
Inviting his delay;
His watchword being "Onward,"
He stopped his ears and run,
Still shouting as he journeyed,
Deliverance will come.
4 I saw him in the evening,
The sun was bending low,
He'd overtopped the mountain
And reached the vale below;
He saw the golden city,--
His everlasting home,--
And shouted loud, Hosanna,
Deliverance will come!
5 While gazing on that city,
Just o'er the narrow flood,
A band of holy angels
Came from the throne of God;
They bore him on their pinions
Safe o'er the dashing foam,
And joined him in his triumph,--
Deliverance has come!
6 I heard the song of triumph
They sang upon that shore,
Saying, Jesus has redeemed us
To suffer nevermore:
Then, casting his eyes backward
On the race which he had run,
He shouted loud, Hosanna,
Deliverance has come!
J.B. Matthias.