848
L. M.
Let us go forth without the camp.
Heb. 13:13.
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.
2 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.
3 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;
4 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.
5 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.
6 Another year—it may be less—
And we have crossed the wilderness,
Finished the toil, the rest begun,
The battle fought, the triumph won.
Bonar.