I saw a way-worn traveler, in tattered garments clad,
A straying up the mountain, it seemed that he was sad;
His back was burdened heavy, his strength was almost
gone;
And he shouted as he journeyed, Deliverance will
come! The summer sun was shining, the sweat was on his
brow,
His garments they were dusty, his step was very slow;
Still he kept pressing onward, for he was wending
home,
And he shouted as he journeyed, Deliverance will
come! The songsters in the arbor that sang beside the way,
Attracted his attention, inviting his delay;
His watchword being onward, he stopped his ears and
ran,
And he shouted as he journeyed, Deliverance will
come! I saw him in the evening, the sun was sinking low;
He had overtopped the mountain, and reached the vale
below;
His elder brother met him, his journey it was done,
And he shouted, It is finished! deliverance will come! His eye was dim and heavy, his body weak and wan,
Therefore his brother gave him a couch to lie upon;
He closed the blinds around him, and shut him up
alone,
That nothing might disturb him, till deliverance
should come. HOPE made for him a pillow, and FAITH a garment
rare,
To wrap him in his slumber till Christ his home pre-
pared;
And when the dawn of morning broke in his little
room,
He arose astonished crying, Deliverance has come! I heard his song of triumph he sang upon the shore,
Saying, Jesus has redeemed me, to suffer never more;
Then casting his eyes backward, o'er the race that he
had run,
He shouted loud in glory, DELIVERANCE HAS COME!