1 Take thy staff, O pilgrim! Haste thee on thy way;
Let the morrow find thee farther than today.
If thou seek the city of the Golden Street,
Pause not on thy pathway, rest not weary feet.
In the heav’nly journey press with zeal along—
Resting will but weary, running make thee strong.

2 Wings that eagles carry, bear them in their flight;
So thy burden bears thee— surely then ’tis light!
Haste, it hath been told thee— all things are thine own;
Pass the pearly portals, stand before the throne.
Here thy journey endeth, here thy staff lay down,
Enter here thy mansion, here receive thy crown!