I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger

A-travelling through this world of woe;

But there's no sickness, toil or trouble

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 just a-going over Jordan,

I'm just a-going over home.



I know dark clouds will gather 'round me,

I know my way is rough and steep;

But golden fields lay just before me,

Where God's redeemed no more shall weep.

I'm going there to see my mother,

She said she'd meet me when I come;

I'm just a-going over Jordan,

I'm just a-going over home.



I want to wear a crown of glory,

When I get home to that bright land;

I want to sing salvation's story,

In concert with that blood-washed band,

I'm going there to meet my Saviour,

To sing His praises forevermore;

I'm just a-going over Jordan,

I'm just a-going over home.