I'm a Pilgrim

I’m a pilgrim, and I’m a stranger;

I can tarry, I can tarry but a night;

Do not detain me, for I am going

To where the fountains are ever flowing.

There the glory is ever shining!

O, my longing heart, my longing heart is there;

Here in this country so dark and dreary,

I long have wandered forlorn and weary.

There’s the city to which I journey;

My Redeemer, my Redeemer is its light!

There is no sorrow, nor any sighing,

Nor any tears there, or any dying.