Pilgrim on the road to glory,

Pressing toward the heavenly prize,

‘Mid the ills that now disturb thee,

‘Mid the dangers that arise;

When the way is dark and dreary,

Rugged, filled with vain alarms,

When perplexed, exhausted weary,

Trust “the Everlasting Arms.”

*

When the waves of trouble threaten,

When the billows fiercely foam,

Human aid is unavailing,

Friends and helpers fail to come;

When of succor thou despairest

And now voice the tempest calms

Think of this, that underneath thee,

Are “the Everlasting Arms.”

*

When corroding cares oppress thee,

When the tempter’s doubts assail,

When thy secret foes distress thee,

When they threaten to prevail;

When thou dread’st the thought of yielding

And would’st rather die than sin,

When thy hopes seem just expiring,

“Everlasting Arms” sustain.

*

And when all below is closing,

When thou dread’st the briny flood,

When thou feel’st the waters rising

Thou shalt find the promise good.

Timid Christian, venture on it;

Bid farewell to all alarms;

‘Tis enough that underneath thee

Are “the Everlasting Arms.

*

—Selected