Ye weary, heavy laden souls,
Who are oppressed and sore;
Ye trav’lers through this wilderness,
To Canaan’s peaceful shore;
Thru chilling winds and beating rains
And waters deep and cold,
And enemies surrounding you,
Take courage and be bold.
Tho storms and hurricanes arise,
The desert all around,
And fiery serpents oft appear
In this enchanted ground;
Dark nights and clouds, and gloomy fears,
And dragons often roar;
Yet, in the great Redeemer’s strength,
We’ll press to Canaan’s shore.
We’re often like the lonesome dove,
That mourns her absent mate;
From hill to hill, from grove to grove,
Her woes she doth relate;
But Canaan just before us lies,
Sweet spring is coming on;
A few more beating winds and rains
And winter will be gone.
Fare well, my brethren in the Lord,
Who are for Canaan bound,
And should we never meet again
Till Gabriel’s trump shall sound,
I hope that I shall meet you there
On that delightful shore,
In mansions of eternal bliss
Where parting is no more.