About The Song

“Thy Burdens Are Greater Than Mine” sits among the quieter, more earnest pieces in Hank Williams’s gospel repertoire — a short hymn that reads like a personal pledge rather than a showpiece. Hank carried gospel songs with him from childhood revivals through his radio days and into his performances, and this number has the feel of something he always treated as part of his private inventory: a line to bring out when the crowd needed a moment of steadiness.

Hank grew up steeped in church music, and those early exposures shaped how he approached sacred material later in life. People who worked with him tell the same small stories: he would sometimes sing a hymn off the cuff in a dressing room or hum a chorus on the bus. That habit — using gospel as both comfort and shorthand — is why he could move from honky-tonk fare into a hymn without breaking the room’s trust; the songs felt like extensions of ordinary speech, not performances.

Recordings of Hank’s sacred songs often came from radio sessions and small-studio dates rather than ambitious commercial campaigns, and that immediacy shows. The versions that survive preserve tiny human details — a breath before a line, the way a vowel hangs — because Hank and his musicians usually favored the take that sounded honest over the one that sounded perfect. Those preserved imperfections are part of the song’s power: they let listeners feel the singer thinking aloud instead of delivering a polished sermon.

There are a few backstage vignettes that help explain how songs like this lived in Hank’s world. Bandmates recalled nights when he’d slip away after a loud show to sing quietly for someone who’d lost a relative, or to harmonize with a fiddler in the alley. Those private moments weren’t publicity; they were practice for the kind of intimacy his gospel recordings keep. Fans who encountered him live often remembered how these hymns narrowed the room and shifted attention without drama.

“Thy Burdens Are Greater Than Mine” works because it offers consolation without proselytizing. It assumes the listener carries weight and simply states that the singer understands and offers to shoulder some of it in spirit. That plainspoken generosity is characteristic of Hank’s sacred material: direct, unornamented, aimed at company more than conversion. It felt natural coming from a man whose public life included both rowdy shows and quiet songs.

Over time the song has mainly circulated through compilations and posthumous gospel collections rather than as a radio single, and that afterlife suits it. It’s the sort of track people find when they want something small and true rather than a hit single. For listeners, the song becomes a late-night companion—a few lines that acknowledge fatigue and offer a brief, shared hope.

Ultimately, the piece shows Hank Williams’s ability to fold faith into everyday speech. It’s not a grand declaration but a small, steady promise. That restraint — the decision to speak plainly and trust the listener to understand — is what gives “Thy Burdens Are Greater Than Mine” its lasting quiet gravity.

Video

Lyric

Travelin’ down a lonely high-way
I knew not where the road would end
Not a penny in my pocket
All a-lone without a friend
In a little country village
I met a man and he was blind
As I helped him cross the high-way
Oh! lord I cried his burdens are greater than mine.
I can see the light of day
I need not feel my way
Yes, thy burdens are greater than mine.
Met a lad while on my travels
Tryin’ hard to play the game
Though his leg was very crippled
And he could not speak his name
Yet, he smiled in understandin’
Though life to him had been unkind
And as I watched, I cried in sorrow
Oh! lord his burdens are greater than mine.
I can speak my name aloud
Make my way among the crowd
Yes, his burdens are greater than mine.
Just by chance I passed a graveyard
I saw a young man kneelin’ there
In his hand, there were some roses
On his lips, there was a prayer
On a stone, these words were written
‘your soul is god’s, your mem’ry mine’
And as I watched, I cried in sorrow
Oh! lord I see his burdens are greater than mine.