Comfort for the Bondman.
Air — "Indian Philosopher."
Come on, my partners in distress,
My comrades in this wilderness,
Who groan beneath your chains;
A while forget your griefs and fears,
And look beyond this vale of tears,
To yon celestial plains.
Beyond the bounds of time and space,
Look forward to that heavenly place,
Which mortals never trod;
On faith's strong eagle pinions rise,
Work out your passage to the skies,
And scale the mount of God.
If, like our Lord, we suffer here,
We shall before his face appear,
And at his side sit down;
To patient faith the prize is sure,
For all who to the end endure
Shall wear a glorious crown.
Thrice blessed, exalted, blissful hope!
It lifts our fainting spirits up,
It brings to life the dead;
Our bondage here will soon be past,
Then we shall rise and reign at last,
Triumphant with our Head.