S. Stennett


ON Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,

And cast a wishful eye

To Canaan’s fair and happy land,

Where my possessions lie.

I am bound for the promised land,

I am bound for the promised land;

O who will come and go with me?

I am bound for the promised land.


O’er all those wide extended plains

Shines one eternal day;

There God the Son forever reigns

And scatters night away.


No chilling winds nor poisonous breath

Can reach that healthful shore;

Sickness and sorrow, pain and death

Are felt and feared no more.


When shall I reach that happy place,

And be forever blest?

When shall I see my Father’s face,

And in His bosom rest?


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