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