1 Who would true valor see,
let them come hither;
one here will constant be,
come wind, come weather;
there's no discouragement
shall make him once relent
his first avowed intent
to be a pilgrim.

2 Whoso beset me 'round
with dismal stories,
do but themselves confound;
his strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
I'll with a giant fight,
but I shall have a right
to be a pilgrim.

3 No word of foe or friend
can daunt my spirit;
I know I at the end
will life inherit.
Then fancies fly away;
I'll fear not what they say;
I'll labor night and day
to be a pilgrim.