I saw the wayward traveler, in tattered garments clad And struggling up the mountain, it seemed that he was sad His back was laden heavy, his strength was almost gone But he shouted as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!" 
Chorus Then 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 worn 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!" 
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 Still shouting as he journeyed, "Deliverance will come!" 
I saw him in the evening, the sun was bending low He had overtopped the mountain, and reached the vale below He saw the golden city, his everlasting home And shouted loud, "Hosanna! Deliverance will come!" 
While gazing on the city, just o’er the narrow flood A band of holy angels came from the throne of God They bore him on their pinions safe o’er the dashing foam And joined him in his triumph, "Deliverance has come!" 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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