Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger, traveling through this world of woe. And there’s no sickness, toil or danger, in that bright land to which I go.

I’m going there to see my mother, She said she’d meet me when I come.
I’m only going over Jordon. I’m only going over home.

I know dark clouds will head around me. I know my way is rough and steep,
but beauteous fields lie just before me, where God’s redeemed, their vigil keep.

I’m going there to see my father, I’m going there no more to roam. I’m only going over Jordon. I’m only going over home.

I want to wear my crown of glory, when I get home to that bright land. I want to shout salvation’s story, in concert with that blood-washed band.

I’m going there to see my Savior, and sing His praise forever more. I’m only going over Jordon. I’m only going over home.