|
I am a poor wayfaring stranger |
|
While traveling through this world below |
|
There is no sickness, toil, or danger |
|
In that bright world to which I go |
|
I know dark clouds will gather o'er me |
|
I know the pathway's rough and steep |
|
But golden fields lie out before me |
|
Where weary eyes no more shall weep |
|
I'm going there to see my Father |
|
I'm going there no more to roam |
|
I am just going over Jordan |
|
I am going over home. |
|
I'll soon be free from every trial |
|
This form will rest beneath the sod |
|
I'll drop the cross of self-denial |
|
And enter in my home with God |
|
I'm going there to see my Savior |
|
Who shed for me His precious blood |
|
I am just going over Jordan |
|
I am just going over home, |
|
I am just going over home |