HYMN OF THE PILGRIM SOUL.
By Gerald Massey
Slow, step by step, day after day,
I journey on my homeward way,
And darkly dream the land of light
Is drawing near, night after night,
Where I shall reach my rest at last,
And smile at all my perils past. Sometimes I sing, sometimes I sigh,
Sometimes I lift the longing eye,
Sometimes my heart laughs 'neath its load
To think of that august abode,
Where I shall reach my rest at last,
And smile at all the perils past. This poor mortality of mine
Shall soon put on its dress divine,
To meet Him with the blest above
Who gave his life to gain our love;
And rich will be my rest at last,
When all the poverty is past! He will be near, my life, my hope,
When at the gloomy gate I grope,
And take my hand, and reach for me
The fruit of immortality;
And I shall know my rest at last,
And triumph in the trials past.