Gathered Gold

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The End of the Way

My life is a wearisome journey

I’m sick with 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 journeying

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 upwards

I am often 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 been dearly 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.

When the last feeble step has been taken,

And the gates of the city appear,

And the beautiful songs of the angels,

Float out on my listening ear;

When all that now seems so mysterious

Will be plain and clear as the day

Yes, 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 wells for those who are faint

There are robes that are whiter and purer

Than any that fancy can paint.

Then help me dear Lord, to press onward

Thinking often through each weary day

The toils of the road will seem nothing

When I get to the end of the way.