A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief All Verses скачать в хорошем качестве

A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief All Verses

A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief Hymn #29 This hymn was sung prior to the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum Smith at Carthage Jail in Carthage, Illinois. Lyrics: 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, And 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 raise 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 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." Text: James Montgomery Music: George Coles Audio by Benjamin Tyler Griffin https://benjamingriffin98.wixsite.com...