Classic Poem

TRUTH .

Turn drooping Pilgrim! why so sad
And sigh with looks forlorn?
Dost not thou see the prospect glad
Of bright celestial morn?

PILGRIM .

Ah, my feeble pow'rs must faint —
I feel a venom'd dart:
Oh heav'nly Truth! it spreads its taint
And tears my bleeding heart.

TRUTH

Fear not, oh Pilgrim! I have found
A balm of power divine,
Of sacred blood, — 'twill cure thy wound,
And deeper wounds than thine.

PILGRIM .

I know fair Truth! thou canst not mock
But oh, my strength must fail —
How shall I climb that craggy rock
Or walk that dreary vale?

TRUTH .

I've got a staff of wondrous pow'r
And food celestial given —
'Twill chear thee in the toilsome hour
And give thee strength from Heaven!

PILGRIM .

But dreadful foes are gath'ring round
And savage hosts engage —
How shall I bear the cannon's sound
Or face the battle's rage?

TRUTH .

I've got a shield of matchless worth
Which death-like strokes will bear
A glitt'ring sword, not made on earth,
And Victory's written there!

PILGRIM .

But oh! shou'd secret foes invade
And spread their dire controul,
How shall I seek for sov'reign aid
To free my captive soul?

TRUTH .

To got the golden key of prayer!
Poor Pilgrim, try its force,
E're let it rust in dark despair,
Twill prove sure resource.

PILGRIM .

Bright Truth! I view thy radiant form,
But oh, shou'd whirlwinds rise,
How shall I bear the raging storm
When thunder rends the skies?

TRUTH .

Pilgrim, a glorious tower I have,
There shelter'd shalt thou be,
There watch — and even the whirlwind's power —
Shall never injure thee.