My days are gliding swiftly by, And I, a pilgrim stranger,
Would not detain there as they fly Those hours of toil and danger.
For now we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are passing over,
And just before the shining shore We may almost discover
Our absent King, thou art my gate, Let every lamp be burning,
We look up far across the way Our distant, homeless family.
For now we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are passing over,
And just before the shining shore We may almost discover.
Should coming days be dark and cold, We will not yield to sorrow,
For hope will seep with tarnished gold, There's glory on the morrow.
For now we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are passing over,
And just before the shining shore We may almost discover.
For now we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are passing over,
And just before the shining shore We may almost discover.
And just before the shining shore We may almost discover.
