Fortitude

Faint not, poor traveller, though thy way
Be rough, like that thy Saviour trod;
Though cold and stormy lower the day,
This path of suffering leads to God.
Nay, sink not; though from every limb
Are starting drops of toil and pain;
Thou dost but share the lot of Him
With whom his followers are to reign.
Thy friends are gone, and thou, alone,
Must bear the sorrows that assail;
Look upward to the eternal throne,
And know a Friend who cannot fail.
Bear firmly; yet a few more days,
And thy hard trial will be past;
Then, wrapt in glory's opening blaze,
Thy feet will rest on heaven at last.
Christian! thy Friend, thy Master pray'd,
When dread and anguish shook his frame;
Then met his sufferings undismay'd;
Wilt thou not strive to do the same?
O! think' st thou that his Father's love
Shone round him then with fainter rays
Than now, when, throned all height above,
Unceasing voices hymn his praise?
Go, sufferer! calmly meet the woes
Which God's own mercy bids thee bear;
Then, rising as thy Saviour rose,
Go! his eternal victory share.