1 Lord, what a wretched land is this,
That yields us no supply.
No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees,
Nor streams of living joy?

2 But pricking thorns thro' all the grounds,
And mortal poisons grow;
And all the rivers that are found,
With dang'rous waters flow.

3 Yet the dear path to thine abode
Lies thro' this horrid land:
Lord! we would keep the heav'nly road,
And run at thy command.

4 [Our souls shall tread the desert thro'
With undiverted feet;
And faith and flaming zeal subdue
The terrors that we meet.]

5 [A thousand savage beasts of prey
Around the forest roam;
But Judah's Lion guards the way,
And guides the strangers home.]

6 [Long nights and darkness dwell below
With scarce a twinkling ray;
But the bright world to which we go
Is everlasting day.]

7 [By glimm'ring hopes, and gloomy fears,
We trace the sacred road,
Thro' dismal deeps and dang'rous snares,
We make our way to God.]

8 Our journey is a thorny maze,
But we march upward still;
Forget these troubles of the ways,
And reach at Zion's hill.

9 [See the kind angels at the gates,
Inviting us to come;
There Jesus the fore-runner waits,
To welcome trav'llers home!]

10 There, on a green, and flow'ry mount,
Our weary souls shall sit,
And with transporting joys recount
The labours of our feet.

11 [No vain discourse shall fill our tongue,
Nor trifles vex our ear;
Infinite grace shall be our song,
And God rejoice to hear.]

12 Eternal glories to the king
That brought us safely thro',
Our tongues shall never cease to sing,
And endless praise renew.