Christian Poem Deliverance

I saw a wayworn pilgrim

In tattered garments clad,

And, struggling up the mountain,

It seemed that he was sad.

His back was laden heavy,

His strength was almost gone;

Yet he shouted as he journeyed,

“Deliverance will come.”

The summer sun was shining;

The sweat was on his brow,

His garments warn and dusty;

His step seemed very slow.

But he kept pressing onward, for

He was wending home,

Still shouting as he journeyed,

“Deliverance will come.”

The songsters in the arbor

That stood beside the way

Attracted his attention,

Invited his delay.

His watchword being “Onward,”

He stopped his ears to run,

Still shouting as he journeyed,

“Deliverance will come.”

I saw him in the evening;

The sun was bending low.

He’d overtopped the mountain,

And reached the vale below.

He saw the golden city,

His everlasting home,

And shouted loud, “Hosanna!

Deliverance will come!”

While gazing on that city

Just o’er that narrow flood,

A band of holy angels

Came from the throne of God;

They bore him on their pinions,

Safe o’er the dashing foam,

And joined him in his triumph,

“Deliverance has come!”

I heard the song of triumph

They san upon that shore,

Saying, “Jesus has redeemed us,

To suffer nevermore.”

Then, casting his eyes backward

On the race which he had run,

He shouted loud, “Hosanna!

Deliverance has come!”

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