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394. The Dying Pilgrim.
1
Long a pilgrim doom'd to roam,I am near my Father's home!
Riches, honours, nothing heeding,
Nature fair, so fast receding,
What should bind me to this clod,
When I am call'd to dwell with God!
2
Lo! my spirit breathes her vow;Christ, the Lamb, is precious now!
Choral songs far off I hear!
Cherubim with palms appear!
Why should I so love my clay,
When angels beckon me away!
3
Farewell, vain world! my friends, farewell!I go, 'mid nobler realms to dwell!
From earth, from bondage, free!
This, this is joy! heaven's portals shine!
I am my Lord's, and he is mine,
Throughout eternity!
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