1 
 
Pilgrims of the Night 
 
 FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, D.D. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 
 
 39 Whst Twenty Thikd Street 
 1884 
 
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 Copyright, 1883, 
 By E. p. Button and Company. 
 
 University Press: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 
 

 "T^EW hymns have a finer lyrical quality, or a 
 sweeter echo through consecrated walls, than 
 Faber's " Pilgrims of the Night." Its very men- 
 tion calls up visions of white-robed choristers and 
 singing multitudes ; and the lines teem with pictures 
 so ready for a loving pencil, that the only difficulty is 
 in knowing which to choose, and where to stop. 
 
 Frederick William Faber was born at Cal- 
 verley, Yorkshire, England, June 28, 1814, and died 
 at London, September 26, 1S63. He began his career 
 as a clergyman of the English Church, but eventually 
 followed John Henry Newman into that of Rome, 
 which has a strong attraction for a certain class 
 of poetic, enthusiastic minds. His prose works are 
 little read outside of the church in which they were 
 written; but his poems, among which are several 
 favorite hymns, have found wide and loving accept- 
 ance. They are full of that beauty of holiness which 
 devout hearts everywhere arc quick to feel, and glad 
 to acknowledge. 
 
X/'V 
 
 "ft' -^1 lllusIraIior)s . Ly j:^- '•' 
 EDMUND H. GARRETT. 
 
 DRAWN AND ENGRAVED UNDER THE SUPERVISION OF 
 
 GEDRGE T. ANDREW. 
 
THE PILGRIMS OF THE NIGHT. 
 
 Hark ! hark ! my soul ! angelic songs are swelling 
 O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore ; 
 
 How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling 
 Of that new life when sin shall be no more ! 
 
 Chorus. — Angels of Jesus, 
 
 Angels of light, 
 Singing to welcome 
 
 'I'he i)ilgrinis of the night ! 
 

 --^-_^^^^<v^v:7\ 
 
 Darker than night, Hfe's shadows fall around us, 
 And, Hkc benighted men, we miss our mark ; 
 
 God hides Himself, and grace hath scarcely found us, 
 Ere death finds out his victims in the dark. 
 
Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 
 Come, weary souls ! for Jesus bids you come ! 
 
 And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, 
 The music of the Gospel leads us home. 
 
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Far, far away, 
 
 like bells at evening pealing, 
 The voice of Jesus 
 *■ sounds o'er land and sea, 
 
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 And laden souls, 
 by thousands meekly stealing, 
 
 Kind Shepherd ! 
 turn their weary steps to Thee. 
 
II 
 
Rest comes at length ; 
 
 though Hfe be long and dreary, 
 
 The day must dawn, 
 
 and darksome night be jjast ; 
 All journeys end 
 welcomes to the weary, 
 And heaven, 
 heart's true home, 
 4f^ will come at last. 
 
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Cheer up, my soul ! 
 faith's moonbeams softly glisten 
 Upon the breast of Hfe's most troubled sea; 
 
 And it will cheer 
 thy drooping heart to listen 
 To those brave songs which angels mean for thee. 
 
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Angels! sing on, your faithful watches keeping, 
 Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; 
 
 While we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weepin^ 
 Till life's long night shall break in endless love. 
 
 Chorus. — Angels of Jesus, 
 Angels of light, 
 Singing to welcome 
 
 The i)iigrinis of the night ! 
 
Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 
 Come, weary souls ! for Jesus bids you come I 
 
 And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, 
 The music of the Gospel leads us home. 
 
 Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing. 
 
 The voice of Jesus sounds o"er land and sea. 
 
 And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, 
 
 Kind Shepherd ! turn their weary steps to Thee. 
 
 Rest comes at length ; though life be long and dreary, 
 The day must dawn, and darksome night be past ; 
 
 All Journeys end in welcomes to the weary. 
 
 And heaven, the heart's true heme, will come at last. 
 
 Cheer up, my soul : faith's moonbeams softly glisten 
 Upon the breast of life's most troubled sea ; 
 
 And it will cheer thy drooping heart to listen 
 
 To those brave songs which angels mean for thee. 
 
 Angels ! sing on, your faithful watches keeping. 
 Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above ; 
 
 While we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weeping. 
 Till life's long night shall break in endless love. 
 
 Chorus. —Angels of Jesus, angels of light. 
 
 Singing to wclcmuu tlic pil^^rims of the nijjht !