Testo A Poor Wayfaring Man Of Grief Fiddlesticks
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 power to ask his name
Whereto he when or whence he came
But there was smoothing in his eye
That won my love I knew not why
Then in 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 has not been ashamed
These deeds shall thy memorial be
Fear not, thou didt's them unto me
