1 Lonely pilgrim, art thou weary
With the burdens daily borne?
Does the way seem dark and dreary,
And thy lot in life forlorn!
Gird thy breastplate close around thee,
Hold it fast, the Spirit's blade,
Let the shield of faith adorn thee:
"It is I; be not afraid."

Chorus:
Bear thy cross in sweet submission,
Look to me, be not dismayed,
By and by, a glad fruition:
"It is I; be not afraid."

2 Tho' thy feet are often bleeding
From the thorns along the way,
All the grace my child is needing,
I will give thee day by day;
Those I love I chasten sorely,
Thus to sweetly purify;
That each child be fitted wholly
For the perfect house on high. [Chorus]

3 Tho' beneath the clouds of sorrow,
Let thine armor brightly shine;
There shall dawn a glad tomorrow
For each trusting child of mine;
I will ever journey with thee,
Sooth thee when with sorrows weighed;
I, at last, a crown will give thee;
Journey on, "be not afraid." [Chorus]