I am a poor, wayfaring stranger,
Wandering through this world of woe.
Yet there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright land 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 over home.
I know dark clouds will gather over me,
I know my way is rough and steep;
Yet beautiful fields lie just before me,
Where God's redeemed there vigils keep.
I'm going there to see my mother;
She said she'll meet me when I come.
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 story,
In concert with the blood washed band.
I'm going there to meet my savior,
To sing his praise forever more.
I'm only going over Jordan,
I'm only going over home.
