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.”