A Pilgrim set out on life's journey,
The road it was rugged and long,
And often despair and misgivings
Accompanied him instead of a song.
The trail it was rough
O'er moor, fen and buff,
But the bold Pilgrim kept plodding on.
He climbed the bleak hill of Misfortune,
And trod the lone vale of Despair,
On through the deep canyon of Sorrow,
And up the steep mountain of Care.
So rough was the road,
And wary the load
The Pilgrim so often would bear.
As the light of life's day was declining,
And the shadows gave warning of night,
Ahead on the green slopes of Gladness
He beheld a fair city so bright.
His goal it was nigh,
His heart sang with joy,
He had reached the blest mansions of Light.
Approaching the guard o the portal,
"Have you room for a Pilgrim" he cried;
The sentinel he softly made answer
"There is room for all pilgrims in side,
All who comes this way
At the close of life's day,
They forever and ever abide."
September, 1950
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