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Poor Wayfaring Stranger

Poor Wayfaring Stranger
Author unknown, published in Sacred Harp, 1844

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
traveling through this world of woe,
Yet there’s no sickness, toil or danger
in that bright land to which I go.

I’m going home to see my Father,
I’m going home no more to roam,
I am just going over Jordan,
I am just going over home.

I know dark clouds will gather round me,
I know my way is rough is steep,
But golden fields lie out before me,
Where God’s redeemed no more shall weep.

I’m going home to meet my Savior,
I’m going home no more to roam,
I am just going over Jordan,
I am just going over home.

I’m going home to meet my Savior,
And at His feet lay down my load,
I am just going over Jordan,
I am just going over home.