THE BLESSED HOPE

1SAW one weary, sad and torn,
With eager steps, press on the way,
Who long the hallowed cross had borne,
Still looking for the promised day;
While many a line of grief and care
Upon his brow was furrowed there—
I asked, what buoyed his spirits up,
O, this, said he—the Blessed Hope!

2And one, I saw, with sword and shield;
Who boldly braved the world's cold frown
And fought, unyielding, on the field,
To win an everlasting crown.
Though worn with toil, oppressed by foes,
No murmur from his heart arose;
I asked, what buoyed his spirits up,
O, this, said he—the Blessed Hope!

3And there was one who left behind,
The cherished friends of early years,
And honor, pleasure, wealth resigned
To tread the path bedewed with tears.
Through trials deep, and conflicts sore,
Yet still a smile of joy he wore;
I asked, what buoyed his spirits up,
O, this, said he—the Blessed Hope!

4While pilgrims here, we journey on
In this dark vale of sin and gloom,
Through tribulation, hate and scorn,
Or through the portals of the tomb;
'Till our returning King shall come,
To take his exiled captives home,
O, what can buoy the spirits up?
'Tis this alone—that Blessed Hope!