a wearisome journey;

 some lines written by a young lady in Nova Scotia, who was an invalid for many years-

"My life is a wearisome journey;
I am sick of the dust and the heat
The rays of the sun beat upon me;
The briars are wounding my feet;
But the city to which I am going
Will more than my trials repay;
All the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.

"There are so many hills to climb upward,
I often am longing for rest;
But he who appoints me my pathway
Knows just what is needful and best.
I know in his Word he has promised
That my strength shall be as my day;
And the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.

"He loves me too well to forsake me,
Or give me one trial too much:
All his people have dearly been purchased,
And Satan can never claim such.
By-and-by I shall see him and praise him
In the city of unending day;
And the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.

"Though now I am footsore and weary,
I shall rest when I'm safely at home;
I know I'll receive a glad welcome,
For the Saviour himself has said, 'Come:
So when I am weary in body,
And sinking in spirit, I say,
All the toils of the road will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way.

"Cooling fountains are there for the thirsty;
There are cordials for those who are faint;
There are robes that are whiter and purer
Than any that fancy can paint.
Then I'll try to press hopefully onward,
Thinking often through each weary day,
The toils of the read will seem nothing
When I get to the end of the way." We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope. - C.H.I.

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