Tell Us O Women Travelers


Men:
Tell us, O Women Travellers,
Unto what Place ye go?
And why ye do not seem Content
To stay on Earth below?

Women:
All Creatures here we empty find,
They can’t supply our Wants,
We go to Christ above, our Life,
To praise him with the Saints.

Men:
Have you not many Friends on Earth,
Who with you sympathize?
Cannot your Earthly Comforts here
Your Hearts to stay entice?

Women:
We’re Pilgrims here, Earth’s not our Home,
Which makes us long to be,
Where Christ our Friend dwells with his Saints,
And they him glorify.

Men:
Why don’t you seek your Treasure here,
With others in the Land;
Who seem well pleas’d with sensual Things,
And some thing in their Hand?

Women:
Our Treasure Christ lay’d up above,
He dearly bought out Bliss,
His Blood’s the Price; nay, Christ himself,
Our blessed Treasure is.

Men:
Since Christ your Treasure is in Heaven,
Your Heart must mount above:
Things Earthly will not suit your Minds,
You must be where you love.

Women:
A Sight of Jesu’s Love, and Blood,
Down streaming from the Cross,
Makes all Things to us here below,
Appear as Dung and Dross.

Men:
Let Pilgrims here join Heaven’s Host,
And Hallelujahs sing,
To him that sits upon the Throne,
And to the Lamb our King.

Women:
Hosanna’s of the highest strain,
To th’ King of Kings be giv’n,
Our Saviour God, who came to Men,
With news of Peace from Heav’n.