作词 : Traditional I am a poor pilgrim of sorrow Cast out in this wide world to roam My brothers and sisters won't own me They say that I'm weak and I'm poor But Jesus father the almighty Has bade me to enter the door Sometimes I'm almost driven 'Til I know not where to roam I've heard of a city called Heaven I've started to make it my home When friends and relations forsake me And troubles grow 'round me so high I think of the kind words of Jesus Poor pilgrim I always am nigh Sometimes I'm almost driven 'Til I know not where to roam I've heard of a city called Heaven I've started to make it my home Oh soon I shall reach the bright glory Where mortals no more do complain The ship that will take me is coming The captain is calling my name Sometimes I'm almost driven 'Til I know not where to roam I've heard of a city called Heaven I've started to make it my home I've heard of a city called heaven I've started to make it my home