843
10s.
Faint yet pursuing.
My feet are worn and weary with the march
O’er the rough road and up the steep hill-side;
O city of our God! I fain would see
Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide.
2 My hands are worn and weary, toiling on,
Day after day, for perishable meat;
O city of our God! I fain would rest—
I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat.
3 My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust,
Oft rent by briers and thorns that crowd my way,
Would fain be made, O Lord, my righteousness!
Spotless and white in heaven’s unclouded ray.
4 My eyes are weary looking at the sin,
Impiety, and scorn upon the earth;
O city of our God! within thy walls
All—all are clothed again with thy new birth.
5 My heart is weary of its own deep sin—
Sinning, repenting, sinning still again;
When shall my soul thy glorious presence feel,
And find, dear Saviour, it is free from stain?
6 Patience, poor soul! the Saviour’s feet were worn;
The Saviour’s heart and hands were weary too;
His garments stained, and travel-worn, and old;
His vision blinded with a pitying dew.
7 Love thou the path of sorrow that he trod;
Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest:
O city of our God! we soon shall see
Thy glorious walls—home of the loved and blest.