p. 118 | THE WEARY PILGRIM by Wm. Putnam

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 26, 1858

THE WEARY PILGRIM.

By Wm. Putnam

O when will those dark clouds be o'er, That so obstruct our sight? And we descry that heavenly shore, All radiant with light?

Yes, when will that bright morn appear, That scatters night away? When we shall soar to realms above— To everlasting day?

There to behold my Saviour's face, And in his presence dwell? There to recount his acts of grace, And songs of rapture swell?

Then why my soul indulge in grief, And like an exile mourn? Wait rather for that sweet relief, The Saviour's call, "Come home."

Hush every murmuring thought or fear, A little longer wait. Soon we shall meet our kindred dear Within the pearly gate.

WM. PUTNAM.

Buckland, Mass