The Pilgrim
By John Bunyan
Who would true valour see
Let him come hither!
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather:
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first-avowed intent
To be a Pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories,
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright;
He’ll with a giant fight;
But he will have a right
To be a Pilgrim.

Nor enemy, nor fiend,
Can daunt his spirit;
He knows he at the end
Shall Life inherit: -- 
Then, fancies, fly away;
He’ll not fear what men say;
He’ll labour, night and day,
To be a Pilgrim.

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