While trav’ling thro’ this dreary land,
O’er mountain heights or desert land;
Hope makes the drooping spirits rise
And cheers me on to reach the prize.
O blessèd hope! O precious hope!
It lifts the veil, and now I see
That land of light where comes no night,
Where I shall live eternally.
This blessèd hope is dear to me,
It lifts me up till I can see
That jasper city bright and fair,
Beyond this world of toil and care.
This world no hope like this can give,
Nor life so sweet as this to live;
No longer I in darkness grope,
For now I walk by light of hope.