A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief

Author: James Montgomery
Composer: George Coles

Languages (51)

This song text has been indexed at SingPraises.net in the following languages:


Statistics

Most common tunes for “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief”

This chart shows the tunes that are paired with this text most frequently, in hymnbooks and other collections published by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If the text appears with the same tune in multiple editions or translations of the same hymnbook, it is only counted once.


Appearances of “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” over time

This timeline shows which tunes have been used with this text over time, in hymnbooks and other collections published by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Representative lyrics

English (Original Language)

1. 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 pow’r to ask his name, Whereto he went, or whence he came; Yet there was something in his eye That won my love; I knew not why.

2. 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.

3. 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 suff’rer up; Thrice from the stream he drained my cup, Dipped and returned it running o’er; I drank and never thirsted more.

4. ’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof. I heard his voice abroad and flew To bid him welcome to my roof. I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest And laid him on my couch to rest, Then made the earth my bed and seemed In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

5. Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death, I found him by the highway side. I roused his pulse, brought back his breath, Revived his spirit, and supplied Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed. I had myself a wound concealed, But from that hour forgot the smart, And peace bound up my broken heart.

6. In pris’n I saw him next, condemned To meet a traitor’s doom at morn. 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!”

7. 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.”

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