The Pilgrim

In this dark wilderness of pain and woe
I wander mournful; oft my upward glance
Implores a cheering ray to guide my feet,
Fearful, and trembling at surrounding snares
Which lurk unseen: and oft I long for rest,
But long in vain; for ah, no safe repose
This land of danger yields! Then let my eyes
Look upward still to those divine abodes
Of light and joy, whence danger is excluded.
And thither let my panting heart aspire
With ardent hope! — 'Tis but to wait with patience
A few sad hours, a few more painful steps,
And life's fatiguing pilgrimage is o'er.
Soon will my weary eyelids close in death,
And these poor feeble limbs sink down to rest
In the cold bosom of the silent grave.
O could I with unshaken hope declare,
Then should my nobler pow'rs awake to life,
To life and joy immortal! happy hour!
Transporting moment! when eternal day
First breaks upon my sight! what sweet surprize!
What boundless rapture! darkness, pain and death
Banish'd at once! and everlasting light
In full meridian glory beaming round!
Joys rising bright and new, in long succession,
To set no more! and shall my weary spirit
(Which wanders now depress'd with sin and woe,)
Rise to this glory? O my gracious God,
Guide of my life, and guardian of my soul,
To thee I breathe my supplicating sigh:
Brighten my glimm'ring hope, dispel the clouds
Of gloomy fear, which hang upon my sight
Heavy and sad; let thy reviving smile,
(Fair dawn of glory!) cheer my fainting heart;
Till all the sorrows, all the pains of time,
Appear as trifles in the blissful view
Of immortality, of endless joys
Incessant flowing from the throne of God.
Then shall I wait serene, with steady faith
And glad expectance, that auspicious hour,
When death, kind angel, shall convey my soul
To light and life, to happiness and God.