November 19, 2013

This song wove its way into my dreams last night...a choice selection from one of Grandmother's old tapes that I imagine only JBs, and possibly only the oldest of those, would remember.

I saw the wayworn traveler, in tattered garmets clad,
Traveling up the mountain, it seemed that he was sad.
His back was heavy laden, his strength was almost gone,
But he shouted as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"

And palms of victory,
Crowns of glory,
Palms of victory
I shall wear.

The summer sun was shining, the sweat was on his brow,
His garments torn and dusty, his step seemed very slow.
But he kept pressing onward, for he was wending home,
Still shouting as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"

And palms of victory,
Crowns of glory,
Palms of victory
I shall wear.

The songsters in the arbor that stood beside the way
Attracted his attention, invited his delay.
His watchword being "Onward!" he stopped his ears and ran,
And shouted as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!"

 And palms of victory,
Crowns of glory,
Palms of victory
I shall wear.

I saw him in the evening, the sun was sinking low,
He overtopped the mountain and reached the vale below.
He saw the golden city, his everlasting home,
And he shouted loud, "Hosanna! Deliverance will come!"

And palms of victory,
Crowns of glory,
Palms of victory
I shall wear.

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