No. 141

Verse 1:
My days are gliding swiftly by,
And I, a pilgrim stranger,
Would not detain them as they fly,
Those hours of toil and danger.

Refrain:
For oh, we stand on Jordan’s strand,
Our friends are passing over,
And just before the shining shore
We may almost discover.

Verse 2:
Should coming days be cold and dark,
We need not cease our singing;
That perfect rest naught can molest,
Where golden harps are ringing.

Verse 3:
Let sorrow’s rudest tempest blow,
Each chord on earth to sever;
Our King says Come, and there’s our home,
Forever, oh, forever.

Rev. David Nelson, 1835

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