A pilgrim and a stranger

A pilgrim and a stranger,
I journey here below;
Far distant is my country,
The home to which I go.
Here I must toil and travail,
Oft weary and oppressed,
But there my God shall lead me
To everlasting rest.

There still my thoughts are dwelling,
’Tis there I long to be;
Come, Lord, and call Thy servant
To blessedness with Thee.
Come, bid my toils be ended,
Let all my wonderings cease;
Call from the wayside lodging
To the sweet home of peace.

There I shall dwell for ever,
No more a stranger guest,
With all thy blood bought children
In everlasting rest,-
The pilgrim toils forgotten,
The pilgrim conflicts o'er,
All earthly griefs behind us,
Eternal joys before.
     Paul Gerhardt  Tr. Jane Borthwick