Aged pilgrim! worn and weary,
Groaning ‘neath thy heavy load;
Soon will end the desert dreary,
In the Father’s blest abode.
Joys eternal there await thee,
Thou shalt see thy Savior there;
Who with open arms shall greet thee,
To those mansions, bright and fair
He who bore thy sins’ full judgment,
On the cross of Calvary,
Keeps the gold in its refinement,
Till He there His image see.
His own hand, and not another,
Guards the object of His love—
Oh! my suffering aged brother,
What a Friend have we above!
Thine has been no common training,
Years of deep affliction thine—
Sufferings past, and still remaining,
Make but grace more brightly shine.
We have all to learn a lesson
From these dealings of our God—
Whom He loves He needs must chasten,
May we kiss the chastening rod.
Bright’s the prospect that’s before thee;
Strong’s the hand that bears thee up;
Thou shalt never faint—though weary—
Jesus drank the bitter cup.
Thine’s the cup of full salvation,
Thou shalt soon His glory sec,
Heaven is thy destination,
Jesus thy reward shall be.
Bristol. T. S.