“Faint, yet pursuing,” we press our way
Up to the glorious gates of day;
Following Him who has gone before,
Over the path to the brighter shore.
“Faint, yet pursuing,” from day to day,
Over the thorny and blood-marked way;
Strengthen and keep us, O Saviour Friend,
Ever pursuing, unto life’s end!
“Faint, yet pursuing,” whate’er befall;
He who has died for us, died for all:
So should they come as a mighty throng,
Bearing His banner aloft with song.
“Faint, yet pursuing,” till eventide,
Under the cross of the Crucified;
Knowing, when darkly are skies o’ercast,
Sorrow and sighing will end at last.
“Faint, yet pursuing,” the eye afar
Sees through the darkness the Morning Star,
Shedding its ray for the weary feet,
Lighting the way to the golden street.