Home at last, thy journey ended,
Weary pilgrim, take thy rest,
Safe from all thy ills defended
In the City of the blest.
Now, no more, the sun shall smite thee,
Clouds no more thy soul affright,
For the Christ Himself shall light thee,
And in heaven there is no night.
Safe from harm, no foes await thee,
Trimming darts to wound thee sore;
And the snares of those that hate thee,
Lie not on thy pathway more.
Doubts distressing, fears deriding,
Trials, sorrows, all are o'er;
Hope rejoicing, trust confiding,
These thy guerdon evermore.
Pilgrim, rest, from ill defended,
Strife and striving now are past;
Sheathe thy sword, the war is ended,
Thine the victory,--home at last!
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