A pilgrim through this lonely world
1
A pilgrim through this lonely world,The blessed Saviour passed;A mourner all his life was he,A dying Lamb at last.
2
That tender heart that felt for all,For all its life-blood gave;It found on earth no resting-place,Save only in the grave.
3
Such was our Lord; and shall we fearThe cross, with all its scorn?Or love a faithless, evil world,That wreathed his brow with thorn?