Here, we are but straying pilgrims,

Here, our path is often dim,

But to cheer us on our journey,

Still we sing this way-side hymn.

CHORUS.

Yonder, over the rolling river,

Where the shining mansions rise,

Soon will be our home for ever,

And the smile of the blesséd Giver

Gladdens all our longing eyes.

2 Here, our feet are often weary,

On the hills that throng our way;

Here, the tempest darkly gathers,

But our hearts within us say—

Yonder, over the rolling river, etc.

3 Here, our souls are often fearful,

Of the pilgrim’s lurking foe;

But the Lord is our defender,

And he tells us we may know,

Yonder, over the rolling river, etc.

4 Here, our shadowed homes are transient,

And we meet the stranger’s frown;

So we’ll sing with joy while going.

E’en to death’s dark billow down—

Yonder, over the rolling river, etc.