Poor Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world of woe
But there’s no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright land to which i go
Well i’m going there
To meet my mother
Said she’d meet me when i come
I’m only going over jordan
I’m only going over home
I know dark clouds
Will gather ‘round me
I know my way
Will be rough and steep
But beautiful fields lie just before me
Where god’s redeemed
Their vigils keep
I’ll soon be free of earthy trials
My body rest in the old church yard
I’ll drop this cross of self-denial
And i’ll go singing home to god