We have our troubles here,
Dark clouds arise, and storms oft cause dismay;
But home is now so near,
And soon will dawn a sinless happy day.


I’ll be among that band,
At rest forever at my Lord’s right hand;
When morning breaks in gloryland I’ll be among that band.

The farther on I go,
The brighter grows my hope of endless rest;
I want my light to glow,
To point the way to those who are oppressed.


Recordings 1 2