As when the weary traveler gains The height of some o'erlooking hill, His heart revives if o'er the plains He sees his home, though distant still. So when the Christian pilgrim views, By faith, his mansion in the skies, The sight his fainting strength renews, And wings his speed so reach the prize. 'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell With Jesus in the realms of day; Then shall I bid my cares farewell And he will wipe my tears away.