'Who yonder on the desert heath,
Complains in feeble tone?'
- 'A pilgrim in the vale of death,
Faint, bleeding and alone.'

'How cam'st thou to this dismal strand
Of danger, grief, and shame?'
-'From blessed Sion's holy land,
By folly led, I came.'

'What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare?
Whose fury laid thee low?'
- 'Sin for my footsteps twined her snare,
And death has dealt the blow.'

'Can art no medicine for thy wound,
Nor nature strength supply?'
- 'They saw me bleeding on the ground,
And passed in silence by.'

'But, sufferer, is no comfort near
Thy terrors to remove?'
- 'There is to whom my soul was dear,
But I have scorned his love.'

'What if his hand were night to save
From endless death thy days?'
- 'The soul he ransomed from the grave
Should live but to his praise.'

'Rise then, O rise, his health embrace,
With heavenly strength renewed;
And such as is thy Saviour's grace,
Such be thy gratitude.'