I. My feet are worn and weary with the march O'er the rough road and up the steep hill-side; 2 My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust, 3 My heart is weary of its own deep sin : Sinning, repenting, sinning still again; 4 Patience, poor soul! the Saviour's feet were worn, 5 Love thou the path of sorrow that He trod; O City of our God, we soon shall see Thy jasper walls, home of the loved and blest. Mrs. Sarah Roberts Boyle (1812-1869), 1853 |