Strangers and pilgrims on the earth. Hebrews 11:13
Words: Augustus M. Toplady, Hymns and Sacred Poems (London: Daniel Sedgwick and Hamilton & Adams, 1775), pages 129–30, alt.
Can aught below engross my thoughts?
Or am I to the world confined?
Nay, let my pure affections soar
To objects of a nobler kind!
I know I’m but a pilgrim here
That seeks a better, promised land:
Then may I run and never tire,
’Till that celestial home’s obtained.
Resolved to tread the sacred way
That Jesus watered with His blood,
I bend my fixed and cheerful course
On that rough path my Master trod.
Contemptuous of the world I live,
A daily death rejoice to die:
And, while I move and walk below,
My absent heart mounts up on high.
O Light of life, still guide my steps,
Without Thy friendly aid I stray:
Lead me, my God, for I am blind,
Direct me and point out my way.
Let this vain world applaud or frown,
Still may I Heaven’s path pursue:
Still may I stand unshook, and keep
The center of my hopes in view!
What is the world’s good word to me,
If by my God from glory driv’n?
Can it redeem my soul from hell,
Or recompense my loss of Heav’n?
Tho’ Satan, earth, and self oppose,
Yet, through Thy help, I’ll persevere;
To Canaan’s hills my eyes lift up.
And choose my lot and portion there.
The way that leads to glory lies
Through ill report, contempt and loss
Assist me to deny myself,
To follow Thee and bear Thy cross.
Let Satan never come between,
Nor separate my God and me;
But may my soul, in every storm,
Find its sure resting place in Thee.