Oppressed by noonday's scorching heat, To yonder Cross I flee, Beneath its shelter take my seat- No shade like this to me !
2. Beneath that Cross clear waters burst. A fountain sparkling free, And there I quench my desert thirst â No spring like this to me !
3. For burdened ones a resting-place Beside that Cross I see ; Here I cast off my weariness â No rest like this for me !
4. A stranger here I pitch my tent Beneath this spreading tree ; Here shall my pilgrim life be spent- No home like this for me !