THE PILGRIMS | AdventAI

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Feb 17, 1853

THE PILGRIMS.

And who are they? That humble band, Amid earth's tinseled show? Who journey in a weary land, And worship as they go?

With steadfast faith, and upward eye, Unmoved by present shame; They wait a glory from on high, A Prince of heavenly fame.

They look, and yet no cloud appears, And watch still undismayed; Nor seem to heed the doubts and fears, That other hearts pervade.

Weary, and yet pursuing still The object of their love, Affirming that he shortly will Appear in clouds above.

While multitudes their hope revile, And dare the threatened day; They patiently the hours beguile, Content to watch and pray.

Then who are they? Their garments seem All suddenly to change! And all their way-worn faces gleam With radiance sweet and strange.

He comes! He comes! Their faithful King, Enthroned on clouds of light; And rising now with shouts they sing, And triumph in his sight.