12054. The PIlgrim's Song

1 My rest is in Heaven; my rest is not here;
Then why should I murmur when trials are near?
Be hushed, my dark spirit! the worst that can come
But shortens my journey, and hastens thee home.

2 It is not for me to be seeking my bliss
And building my hopes in a region like this:
I look for a city which hands have not piled;
I pant for a country by sin undefiled.

3 The thorn and the thistle around me may grow;
I would not lie down upon roses below:
I ask not my portion, I seek not a rest,
Till I find sweet quiet on Jesus’ breast.

4 Afflictions may damp me, they cannot destroy:
One glimpse of His love turns them all into joy;
The bitterest tears, if He smile but on them,
Like dew in the sunshine, grow diamond and gem.

5 Let doubt then, and danger, my progress oppose;
They only make Heaven more sweet at the close.
Come joy, or come sorrow, whate’er may befall,
An hour with my God will make up for it all.

6 A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand,
I march on in haste through an enemy’s land:
The road may be rough, but it cannot be long;
I’ll smooth it with hope, and I’ll cheer it with song.

Text Information
First Line: My rest is in Heaven; my rest is not here
Title: The PIlgrim's Song
Author: Henry F. Lyte
Meter: 11.11.11.11
Language: English
Source: Poems, Chiefly Religious (London: James Nisbet, 1833)
Copyright: Public Domain
Tune Information
Name: WE PRAISE THEE
Composer: W. Howard Doane (1893)
Meter: 11.11.11.11
Key: A♭ Major
Copyright: Public Domain



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