The Wayfaring Stranger

I'm just a poor, wayfaring stranger

Traveling through this world of woe

But there's no sickness, no toil, nor danger

In this fair land to which I go

I'm going there to see my father

I'm going there, no more to roam

I am just going over Jordan

I am just going over home

I know dark clouds will gather round me

I know my way is rough and stiff

But beauteous fields lie just before me

Where God's redeemed, their vigils keep

I'm going there to see my mother

She said she'd meet me when I come

I am just going over Jordan

I am just going over home