The Way Of The Cross May Be

The way of the cross may be toilsome and drear,
With much to annoy and but little to cheer;
Rocks, pitfalls, and snares, and a tangled array
Of briers and thorns to perplex and dismay;
And friends may betray thee and enemies frown;
But the way of the Cross is the way of the Crown.

Then travel this way, by night and by day,
With pilgrim’s staff in hand;
Though rugged it be, yet it leadeth to thee,
To the painless, deathless land.

Faint not, weary pilgrim, for, know! ’tis the road
That leads to thy rest in the bosom of God;
Thy Savior hath travel’d each step of the way,
His presence attends thee, his strength is thy stay;
Why falter thy footsteps? why art thou cast down?
When the way of the Cross is the way of the Crown? [Chorus]

Before thee is smiling a sweet summer glade,
And gladness awaits thee in sunshine and shade;
The birds carrol gaily and flowers bloom there,
Sweet odors are filling the ambient air;
Then hasten thy footsteps, and soon thou shalt own
That it is not all toil on the way to the Crown. [Chorus]

Press on, and the Sun of yon heavenly sphere,
The path shall illume on thy pilgrimage here;
And brighter, still brighter his rays shall become,
Till glory ineffable welcome thee home;
Then wilt thou confess to thy Savior’s renown,
That the way of the Cross is the way of the Crown. [Chorus]