Smutny Człowiek (A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief) – Lyrics

7. Błogosławieni którzy wytrwają

(Composed by James Montgomery & George Coles, performed by Kasia)

Sung in Polish

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.

Once, when my scanty meal was spread,

He entered; not a word he spake,

Just perishing for want of bread.

I game him all; he blessed it, break,

And ate, but gave me part again.

Mine was an angel’s portion then,

For while I fed with eager haste,

The crust was manna to my taste.

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.

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!’

Then in 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.’