Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger,
Traveling through this world of woe
There's no sickness, toil, nor danger
In that bright land which I go

I'm going there to see my mother
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just going, over Jordan
I'm just going, over home

I know dark clouds will gather round me,
I know my path is rough and steep.
But golden fields stretch out before me,
Where weary eyes no more will weep

I'm going there to see my brother
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just going, over Jordan
I'm just going, over home

I'm going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet when I come
I'm just going, over Jordan,
I'm just going, over home.