I saw a wayworn traveler, in tattered garments clad,
And struggling up the mountain, it seemed that he was sad;
His back was laden heavy, his strength was almost gone,
Yet he shouted as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"
Then Palms of Victory,
Crowns of Glory,
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
The summer sun was shining, the sweat was on his brow,
His garments worn and dusty, his step seemed very slow;
But he kept pressing onward, for he was wending home,
Still shouting as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"
Then Palms of Victory,
Crowns of Glory,
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
The songsters in the arbor that stood beside the way
Attracted his attention, inviting his delay:
His watchword being "Onward!" he stopped his ears and ran,
Still shouting as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"
Then Palms of Victory,
Crowns of Glory,
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
I saw him in the evening; the sun was bending low;
He'd overtopped the mountain, and reached the vale below:
He saw the Golden City, "his everlasting home"
And shouted loud, "Hosanna! Deliverance will come!"
Then Palms of Victory,
Crowns of Glory,
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
While gazing on that city, just o'er the narrow flood,
A band of holy angels came from the throne of God;
They bore him on their pinions safe o'er the dashing foam,
And joined him in his triumph: Deliverance had come!
Then Palms of Victory,
Crowns of Glory,
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
