East Street Memoirs

On a Sa­tur­day af­ter­noon in Oc­to­ber, 1858, while at

work in my corn­field near Hard­wick, New York, the

sen­ti­ment of this hymn came to me. The next day,

I fin­ished the hymn and wrote a tune for it and sent it...

 

Holy Spirit, faithful Guide, ever near the Christian's side;
Gently lead us by the hand, pilgrims in a desert land.
Weary souls fore'er rejoice, while they hear that sweetest voice,
Whispering softly, "Wanderer, come, follow Me, I'll guide thee home."

Ever present, truest Friend, ever near Thine aid to lend,
Leave us not to doubt and fear, groping on in darkness drear.
When the storms are raging sore, hearts grow faint and hopes give o'er.
Whispering softly, "Wanderer, come, follow Me, I'll guide thee home."

When our days of toil cease, waiting still for sweet release,
Nothing left but heaven and prayer, wondering if our names are there;
Wading deep the dismal flood, pleading naught but Jesus' blood,
Whispering softly, "Wanderer, come, follow Me, I'll guide thee home."

HEAR IT HERE