A POOR WAYFARING MAN OF GRIEF...

A poor wayfaring Man of grief hath often crossed me on my way.
Who sued so humbly for relief that I could never answer nay.
I had not power to ask his name, where to he went, or whence he came.
Yet there was something in his eye that won my love I knew not why.

Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered, not a word he spake.
Just perishing for want of bread, I gave him all, he blessed it, brake.
And ate, but gave me part again, mine was an angel's portion then.
For while I fed with eager haste, the crust was manna to my taste.

I spied him where a fountain burst clear from the rock, his strength was gone.
The heedless water mocked his thirst, He heard it, saw it hurrying on.
I ran and raised the sufferer up, thrice from the stream he drained my cup.
Dipped and returned it running o'er, I drank and never thirsted more.

In prison I saw him next, condemned to meet a traitor's doom at noon.
The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, and honored him 'mid shame and scorn.
My friendship's utmost zeal to try, He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill, but my free spirit cried, "I will".

Then in a moment to my view the stranger started from disguise.
The tokens in his hands I knew, the Savior stood before mine eyes,
He spake and my poor name he named.
"Of me thou hast not been ashamed. These deeds shall thy memorial be, Fear not, thou didst them unto me."



Favorite LDS hymn
Text: James Montgomer