|
I am a poor wayfaring stranger, |
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wandering through this world of woe, |
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and there's no sickness, no toil or danger |
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in that bright land to which I go. |
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I'm going there to meet my mother, |
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she said she'd meet me when I come. |
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I'm only going over Jordan, |
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I'm only going over home. |
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I'll soon be free from every trial, |
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my body asleep in the old graveyard. |
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I'll drop the cross of self denial, |
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and enter on my great reward. |
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I'm going there to meet my father, |
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I'm going there no more to roam. |
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I'm only going over Jordan, |
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I'm only going over home. |
|
I am a poor wayfaring stranger, |
|
wandering through this world of woe, |
|
and there's no sickness, no toil or danger |
|
In that bright land to which I go. |
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I'm going there to see my sister, |
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she said she'd meet me when I come. |
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I'm only going over Jordan, |
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I'm only going over home. |
