286    L.M.     J. Swain
The Pilgrim’s Consolation. Ps. 34. 19; Heb. 11. 13

1 Pilgrims we are, to Canaan bound;
  Our journey lies along this road;
  This wilderness we travel round,
  To reach the city of our God.

2 And here as travellers we meet,
  Before we reach the fields above,
  To sit around our Master’s feet,
  And tell the wonders of his love.

3 Oft have we seen the tempest rise;
  The world and Satan, hell and sin,
  Like mountains, seemed to reach the skies,
  With scarce a gleam of hope between.

4 But still, as oft as troubles come,
  Our Jesus sends some cheering ray;
  And that strong arm shall guide us home
  Which thus protects us by the way.

5 A few more days, or months, or years,
  In this dark desert to complain;
  A few more sighs, a few more tears,
  And we shall bid adieu to pain.