1 “Say, whither, wandering stranger,
Ah! whither dost thou roam?
O’er this wide world a ranger,
Hast thou no friend, no home?”
“Yes, I’ve a Friend who never
Is absent from my side;
And I’ve a home wherever
In peace I shall abide.”

2 “But want and woe have driven
The roses from thy cheek;
And garments rent and riven,
Thy poverty bespeak.”
“I’ve food with which the angels
Would all delighted be;
And robes of dazzling brightness
Are now awaiting me.”

3 “Come, then, benign inquirer,
And join me on my way;
I’m journeying to a country
Where beams an endless day;
Where saints and angels, falling
Before the great, white throne,
To you, to me are calling,
Haste, pilgrim, hasten home.”