| |
| A PILGRIM am I, on my way | |
| To seek and find the Holy Land; | |
| Scarce had I started, when there lay | |
| And marched round me a fourfold band: | |
| A smiling Joy, a weeping Woe, | 5 |
| A Hope, a Fear, did with me go; | |
| And one may come, or one be gone; | |
| But I am never more alone. | |
| |
| My little Hope, she pines and droops, | |
| And finds it hard to live on earth; | 10 |
| But then some pitying angel stoops | |
| To lift her out of frost and dearth, | |
| And bears her on before, and up, | |
| To taste, out of our Saviour’s cup, | |
| Such cheer as here she cannot find, | 15 |
| While patiently I plod behind. | |
| |
| Thus oft I send her from below— | |
| Poor little Hope—for change of air. | |
| I miss her sorely; but I know | |
| That God of her is taking care. | 20 |
| And when my earthly course is done, | |
| To heaven’s gate I ’ll see her run | |
| To meet me mid the shining bands, | |
| With full fruition in her hands. | |
| |
| My Fear I give to Faith to still | 25 |
| With lullabies upon her breast. | |
| She sings to him, “Our Father’s will, | |
| Not ours, be done, for His is best,” | |
| And lays him down to sleep in bowers— | |
| Beneath the cross—of passion-flowers | 30 |
| But ever yet he wakes in pain, | |
| And finds his way to me again. | |
| |
| But Woe,—she scarce will lose her hold. | |
| She sits and walks and runs with me, | |
| And watches. Ere the sun with gold | 35 |
| Pays to the East his entrance fee | |
| She stirs, and stares me in the face, | |
| And drives me from each stopping-place. | |
| A guardian angel in disguise | |
| Seems looking through her tearful eyes. | 40 |
| |
| Perhaps she hath a charge from God | |
| To see that ne’er, through Satan’s camp, | |
| I slumber on my dangerous way | |
| Too sound or long. A safety lamp | |
| Meantime by Joy is carried nigh, | 45 |
| Somewhat aloof; for he is shy, | |
| Too shy within my grasp to stay, | |
| Though seldom is he far away. | |
| |
| Thus, fellow-pilgrims, fare we on; | |
| But, in what mortals call my death, | 50 |
| My Fear is doomed to die anon; | |
| When Woe shall leave me safe,—so saith | |
| My sweet-voiced Hope,—and turn to bring | |
| Some other soul; while Joy shall spring | |
| With me through heaven’s strait door, to be | 55 |
| Forever of my company! | |
| |
