Oh, the Joy That Awaits Me

Beyond the si­lent riv­er

In the glo­ry sum­mer-lands

In the beau­ti­ful for­ev­er

Where the jew­eled ci­ty stands

Where ev­er bloom­ing flow­ers

Send forth their sweet per­fume

My heart’s most loved and cher­ished

In heav’n­ly beau­ty bloom.

Oh

the joy that there awaits me

When I reach that gold­en shore

When I grasp the hands of loved ones

To part with them no more.

And when I cross that riv­er

The first I will ad­ore

The first to bid me wel­come

Upon that gold­en shore

Will be my lov­ing Sav­ior

The one who died for me

That in the long for­ev­er

From sin I might be free.

The next one who will greet me

In the man­sions fair and bright

Will be my saint­ed mo­ther

Arrayed in gar­ments white;

And then the gray haired fa­ther

Close press­ing by her side

Will grasp my hand with fer­vor

Just o’er the swell­ing tide.

The cur­ly head­ed bro­ther

And lit­tle ba­by dear

And bright eyed lit­tle sis­ter

With mer­ry laugh and cheer

Will all clus­ter round me

To bid me wel­come home

And watch with me the ga­ther­ing

Of loved ones yet to come.