A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief

Lyrics

1. 1. A poor wayfaring Man of grief

   Hath often crossed me on my way,

   Who sued so humbly for relief

   That I could never answer nay.

   I had not pow’r to ask his name,

   Whereto he went, or whence he came;

   Yet there was something in his eye

   That won my love; I knew not why.

2. 2. Once, when my scanty meal was spread,

   He entered; not a word he spake,

   Just perishing for want of bread.

   I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,

   And ate, but gave me part again.

   Mine was an angel’s portion then,

   For while I fed with eager haste,

   The crust was manna to my taste.

3. 3. I spied him where a fountain burst

   Clear from the rock; his strength was gone.

   The heedless water mocked his thirst;

   He heard it, saw it hurrying on.

   I ran and raised the suff’rer up;

   Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,

   Dipped and returned it running o’er;

   I drank and never thirsted more.

4. 4. ’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew

   A winter hurricane aloof.

   I heard his voice abroad and flew

   To bid him welcome to my roof.

   I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest

   And laid him on my couch to rest,

   Then made the earth my bed and seemed

   In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

5. 5. Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death,

   I found him by the highway side.

   I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,

   Revived his spirit, and supplied

   Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.

   I had myself a wound concealed,

   But from that hour forgot the smart,

   And peace bound up my broken heart.

6. 6. In pris’n I saw him next, condemned

   To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.

   The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,

   And honored him ’mid shame and scorn.

   My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,

   He asked if I for him would die.

   The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,

   But my free spirit cried, “I will!”

7. 7. Then in a moment to my view

   The stranger started from disguise.

   The tokens in his hands I knew;

   The Savior stood before mine eyes.

   He spake, and my poor name he named,

   “Of me thou hast not been ashamed.

   These deeds shall thy memorial be;

   Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”