I am a poor wayfaring stranger
While journeying 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 go-going over Jordan
I'm only go-going over home
I know dark clouds will gather ‘round me
I know my way is rough and steep;
And beautiful fields lie just before me
Where God's redeemed there vigils keep
I'm going there to see my Father
I'm going there no more to roam;
I'm only go-going over Jordan
I'm only go-going over home