Victory

My tired eyes look up to Thee
And then the vision which I see,
Sustains, upholds and comforts me
Along this narrow way.

Lord, I would always see Thy face
Wilt grant me then sufficient grace—
As onward thru this barren waste
I tread my weary way—

I would not lay my armour down
’Til I receive the victor’s crown,
Then with the noise of battle o’er
I’ll view my Saviour evermore.

Poems of the Way