The following beautiful lines were written by a young woman in Nova Scotia, an invalid for many years with spinal disease, and a great sufferer, but in whom the Grace of God was most wonderfully manifested.
My life is a wearisome journey
I’m sick with the dust and the heat,
The rays of the sun beat upon me,
The briars are wounding my feet;
But the city to which I am journeying
Will more than my trials repay,
All the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.
There are so many hills to climb upwards
I am often longing for rest,
But He who appoints me my pathway
Knows just what is needful and best;
I know in His Word He has promised
That my strength shall be as my day,
And the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.
He loves me too well to forsake me,
Or give me one trial too much;
All His people have been dearly purchased,
And Satan can never claim such
By and by I shall see Him and praise Him
In the city of unending day,
And the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.
When the last feeble step has been taken,
And the gates of the city appear,
And the beautiful songs of the angels,
Float out on my listening ear;
When all that now seems so mysterious
Will be plain and clear as the day-
Yes, the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.
Though now I am footsore and weary
I shall rest when I’m safely at home;
I know I’ll receive a glad welcome,
For the Saviour Himself has said “Come!”
So when I am weary in body
And sinking in spirit, I say,
“All the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.”
Cooling fountains are there for the thirsty;
There are cordials for those who are faint;
There are robes that are whiter and purer
Than any that fancy can paint.
Then help me, dear Lord, to press onward,
Thinking often through each weary day,
The toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.