Poor Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
While traveling through this world of woe,
Yet there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright world to which I go.

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

I know dark clouds will gather around me,
I know my way is rough and steep,
Yet 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'm only going over Jordan,
I'm only going over home.

I'll soon, be freed from every trial,
My body asleep in the old churchyard,
I'll drop the cross of self-denial,
And enter on my great reward.

I'm going there to see my classmates,
Who have gone before me, one by one,
I'm only going over Jordan,
I'm only going over home.

I want to wear a crown of glory
When I get home to that good land,
I want to shout salvation's glory
In concert with that blood-washed band.

I'm going there to see my Savior,
To sing his praise forevermore,
I'm only going over Jordan.
I'm only going over home.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.