His soul borne down by sorrow’s load
The pilgrim treads life’s weary road,
Assailed by doubts and fears.
But when sin thrusts him side to side
And tempts his heart with lofty pride
He calls on one who hears.
His King, the Rock on whom he stands
The Cornerstone, the Son of man,
The Triune God, his Lord;
The loving Shepherd of the sheep
Who knows their names and ever keeps
Their souls from snare and sword.
And though the pilgrim’s body fails
And falls upon that lonely trail
E’en then he never dies;
The seed of faith within him lives
That bond to Christ that ever gives
The strength again to rise.
Yea as that pilgrim struggles on
Still yet his soul lifts up this song,
His heart filled full with praise,
“I love thee, Lord, and wish to know
More of Thy love for me, to grow
In thankfulness and faith.
Yea, not my will, but thine be done;
Complete the work thou hast begun
And bring me home to thee.
That there I might with thee abide
And praise thee at my Savior’s side.
Lord, hear this pilgrim’s plea.”