A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief A Duet

Many will recognized this beautiful  hymn by James Montgomery (lyrics, 1771-1854) and George Coles (music, 1792-1858). I arranged this piece for two Violins for friends in my congregation.  I have subsequently provided parts for other string and woodwind instruments to allow for other Duet combinations. In addition to Violin, Part 1 is available for Flute, Oboe, Clarinet (A & Bb) and Violin. Part 2 is available for Clarinet (A & Bb), bassoon, Violin, Viola and Cello. The melody is passed back and forth between instruments, allowing both to shine.

Synthesized MP3 File:

Live Duet of Flute and Violin [Amy and Amy]:

 

The Wikipedia page on this hymn is interesting.  Of note, “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief”, was originally titled “The Stranger and His Friend”, and written as a seven-stanza poem in 1826 by James Montgomery. The words of the poem were adopted as a Christian hymn with music by George Coles. John Taylor learned the hymn in England in 1840. Joseph Smith asked John Taylor to sing it for him twice on June 27, 1844, in the Carthage Jail. Smith and his brother, Hyrum, were shot and killed later that same day.

Composer: Rev. George Coles (1792-1858)
Arranger: WT Stephenson
Created: Jul 2023
Lyrics:
Lyrics by James Montgomery (1771-1854):   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 pow’r to ask his name, whereto he went, or whence he came; yet there was something in his eye that won my love; I knew not why.
Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered; not a word he spake, just perishing for want of bread. I gave him all; he blessed it, brake, And ate, but gave me part again. Mine was the angel’s portion then, for while I fed with eager haste, the crust was manna to my taste.
I spied him where a fountain burst clear from the rock; is strength was gone. The heedless water mocked his thirst. He heard it, saw it hurrying on. I ran and raised the sufferer up. Thrice from the stream he drained my cup, dipped and returned it running o’er. I drank and never thirsted more.
’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof. I heard his voice abroad and flew To bid him welcome to my roof. I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest And laid him on my couch to rest; Then made the earth my bed, and seemed In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.
Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death, I found him by the highway side. I roused his pulse, brought back his breath, Revived his spirit, and supplied Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed. I had myself a wound concealed, But from that hour forgot the smart, And peace bound up my broken heart.
In pris’n I saw him next, condemned To meet a traitor’s doom at morn. The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, And honored him ’mid shame and scorn. My friendship’s utmost zeal to try, He asked if I for him would die. The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill, But my free spirit cried, “I will!”
Then in a 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 hast not been ashamed. These deeds shall thy memorial be; Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”
Duration: 3:30