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Silent, like men in solemn haste,
Girded wayfarers of the waste,
We press along the narrow road
That leads to life, to bliss, to God.
We fling aside the weight and sin,
Resolved the victory to win;
We know the peril, but our eyes
Rest on the splendor of the prize.
No idling now, no wasteful sleep;
We trim our lamps, our vigils keep;
No shrinking from the desperate fight,
No thought of yielding or of flight;
No love of present gain nor ease,
No seeking man nor self to please.—
With the brave heart and steady eye,
We onward march to victory.
Night is far spent, and morn is near—
Morn of the cloudless and the clear;
’Tis but a little and we come
To our reward, our crown, our home.
Another year—it may be less—
And we have crossed the wilderness,
Finished the toil, the rest begun,
The battle fought, the triumph won.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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Heb 13:13;
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MUSIC
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Name:
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HOLBORN HILL
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
