I journey through a desert drear and wild,
Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled
Of Him, on whom I lean, my strength, my stay,
That I forget the sorrows of the way.
Thoughts of His love, the root of every grace
Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling place,
The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright,
And my calm pillow of repose by night.
Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears!
The tale of love unfolded in those years
Of sinless sufferings, and patient grace
I love again and yet again to trace.
Thoughts of His glory; on the cross I gaze,
And there behold its sad, yet healing rays
Beacon of hope, which lifted up on high,
Illumines with heavenly light the tear dimmed eye.
Thoughts of His coming, for that joyful day
In patient hope, I watch, and wait and pray,
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee;
O, what a sunrise will that advent be!
Thus while I journey on, my Lord to meet,
My thoughts and meditations are so sweet
Of Him, on Whom I lean, my strength, my stay,
That I forget the sorrows of the way.