I am a poor wayfaring stranger
While traveling through this world below
There is no sickness, toil, nor danger
In that bright world to which I go

I know dark clouds will gather o’er me
I know my pathways rough and steep
But golden fields lie out before me
Where weary eyes no more shall weep

I’m going there to see my Father
I’m going there no more to roam
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.

I’ll soon be free from every trial,
This form will rest beneath the sod.
I’ll drop the cross of self-denial,
And enter in my home with God.

I’m going there to see my Savior,
Who shed for me His precious blood.
I am just going over Jordan,
I am just going over home.

I’m going there to see my Father,
I’m going there no more to roam.
I am just going over Jordan,
I am just going over home.