I am a poor wayfaring stranger Traveling through this world of woe And there's no sickness, toil nor 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 around me I know my way is rough and steep Yet beauteous fields lie just before me In Christ 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 want to wear that crown of glory When I get home to that bright land Well, I want to shout salvation's story In concert with all the blood-washed band I'm going there to see my Savior I'm going there no more to roam