As When the Weary Traveler Gains

As when the wea­ry tra­vel­er gains

The height of some o’er­look­ing hill;

His heart re­vives

if cross the plains

He eyes his home

though dist­ant still.

While he sur­veys the much loved spot

He slights the space that lies be­tween;

His past fa­tigues are now for­got

Because his jour­ney’s end is seen.

Thus

when the Christ­ian pil­grim views

By faith

his man­sion in the skies;

The sight his faint­ing strength re­news

And wings his speed to reach the prize.

The thought of home his spir­it cheers

No more he grieves for trou­bles past;

Nor any fu­ture tri­al fears

So he may safe ar­rive at last.

Tis there

he says

I am to dwell

With Je­sus

in the realms of day;

Then I shall bid my cares fare­well

And He will wipe my tears away.

Jesus

on Thee our hope de­pends

To lead us on to Thine ab­ode;

Assured our home will make am­ends

For all our toil while on the road.