Shall we
gather at the river,
Where
bright angel feet have trod,
With its
crystal tide forever
Flowing by
the throne of God?
Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the
margin of the river,
Washing up
its silver spray,
We will
talk and worship ever,
All the
happy golden day.
Ere we
reach the shining river,
Lay we
every burden down;
Grace our
spirits will deliver,
And provide
a robe and crown.
At the
smiling of the river,
Mirror of
the Savior’s face,
Saints,
whom death will never sever,
Lift their
songs of saving grace.
Soon we’ll
reach the silver river,
Soon our
pilgrimage will cease;
Soon our
happy hearts will quiver
With the
melody of peace.
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