I am a poor wayfaring stranger
While traveling thru this world of woe
Yet there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright world 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 head around me
I know my way is rough and steep
Yet beauteous fields lie just before me
Where God's redeemed their vigils keep

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