I traveled down a lonely road, And no one seemed to care, The burden on my weary back, Had bowed me to despair, I oft complain to Jesus, How folks were treating me, And then I heard Him say so tenderly, "My feet were also weary, Upon the Calvary road; The cross became so heavy, I fell beneath the load, Be faithful weary pilgrim the morning I can see, Just lift your cross and follow close to me.
"I work so hard for Jesus," I often boast and say, "I've sacrificed a lot of things, To walk the narrow way, I gave up fame and fortune; I'm worth a lot to the Thee," And then I hear Him gently say to me, "I left the throne of glory, And counted it but loss, My hands were nailed in anger, Upon on a cruel cross, But now we'll make the journey, With your hand safe in mine, So lift your cross and follow close to me.
Oh, Jesus if I die upon, A foreign field some day, 'Twould be no more than love demands, No less could I repay, "No greater love hath mortal man, Than for a friend to die," These are the words He gently spoke to me, If just a cup of water, I place within your hand, Then just a cup of water, Is all that I demand, But if by death to living, They can thy glory see, I'll take my cross and follow close to thee.
- Ira F. Stanphill
