Wayfaring Stranger

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
A-traveling through, this world of woe.
Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger
In that bright land, to which I go.
I'm going there to see my father
I'm going there no more to roam;
I'm just go-ing over Jordan
I'm just go-ing over home.

I know dark clouds will gather round me
I know my way is rough and steep;
Yet beauteous fields lie just before me
Where God's redeemed, their vigils keep
I'm going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come;
I'm just go-ing over Jordan
I'm just go-ing over home.

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
I'm just go-ing over home.

American folk gospel/spiritual