I am a poor wayfaring strangerWhile traveling thru this world of woeYet there's no sickness, toil or dangerin that bright world to which I goI'm going there to see my fatherI'm going there no more to roamI'm only going over JordanI'm only going over homeI know dark clouds will gather around meI know my way is rough and steepYet beauteous fields lie just before meWhere God's redeemed their vigils keepI'm going there to see my motherShe said she'd meet me when I comeI'm only going over JordanI'm only going over home