459
S. M.
The church in the wilderness.
Far down the ages now,
Much of her journey done,
The pilgrim church pursues her way,
Until her crown be won.
2 The story of the past
Comes up before her view:
How well it seems to suit her still—
Old, and yet ever new!
3 It is the oft-told tale
Of sin and weariness—
Of grace and love yet flowing down
To pardon and to bless.
4 No wider is the gate,
No broader is the way,
No smoother is the ancient path,
That leads to life and day.
5 No sweeter is the cup,
Nor less our lot of ill:
’Twas tribulation ages since,
’Tis tribulation still.
6 No slacker grows the fight,
No feebler is the foe,
Nor less the need of armor tried,
Of shield, and spear, and bow.
7 Thus onward still we press,
Through evil and through good—
Through pain, and poverty, and want,
Through peril and through blood.
8 Still faithful to our God,
And to our Captain true,
We follow where he leads the way,
The kingdom in our view.
Bonar.