When I Get to the End of the Way

The sands have been washed in the foot­prints

Of the Strang­er on Ga­li­lee’s shore;

And the voice that sub­dued the rough bil­lows

Will be heard in Ju­dea no more

But the path of that lone Ga­li­le­an

With joy I will fol­low to­day

And the toils of the road will seem no­thing

When I get to the end of the way

The toils of the road will seem no­thing

When I get to the end of the way.

There are so ma­ny hills to climb up­ward

I oft­en am long­ing for rest;

But He who ap­points me my path­way

Knows just what is need­ful and best.

I know in His Word He hath pro­mised

That my strength it shall be as my day;

He loves me too well to for­sake me

Or give me a tri­al too much;

His peo­ple have been dear­ly pur­chased

And Sa­tan can nev­er claim such.

By and by I shall see Him and praise Him

In the ci­ty of un­end­ing day;

When the last fee­ble steps have been tak­en

And the gates of that ci­ty ap­pear

And the beau­ti­ful songs of the an­gels

Float out on my list­en­ing ear;

When all that now seems so mys­te­ri­ous

Will be bright and as clear as the day

And the toils of the road will seem no­thing

When I get to the end of the way

Then the toils of the road will seem no­thing

When I get to the end of the way.