Pilgrims here on earth and stran­gers,
’Neath a wea­ry load we bend:
O how sweet, ’mid toils and dan­gers,
Still to have a hea­ven­ly friend!
Christ has suf­fered,
And to suf­fer­ers grace will send.

By as dead­ly foes as­saul­ted,
By as strong temp­ta­tions tried,
Still His foot­steps ne­ver halt­ed,
On from strength to strength He hied.
What could move Him,
With Je­ho­vah at His side?

To the shame­ful cross they nailed Him,
And that cross be­came His throne:
In the tomb they laid and sealed Him;
Lo, the God­head bursts the stone,
And, as­cend­ing,
Claims all em­pire as His own.

Savior, from Thy hea­ven­ly glo­ries
Here an eye of mer­cy cast;
Make our path­way plain before us,
Smooth the wave, and still the blast.
Thou hast helped us;
Bear us safe­ly home at last.