Safe in the Glory Land

In the good old way where the saints have gone

And the King leads on be­fore us

We are tra­vel­ing home to the heav’n­ly hills

With the day­star shin­ing o’er us.

Traveling home to the man­sions fair

Crowns of re­joic­ing and life to wear;

O what a shout when we all get there

Safe in the glo­ry land.

In the good old way like the ran­somed throng

Unto Zi­on now re­turn­ing

We are tra­vel­ing home at the King’s com­mand

And our lamps are trimmed and burn­ing.

In the good old way with a stead­fast faith

In the bonds of love and un­ion

What a joy is ours

for the King we see

And with Him we hold com­mun­ion.

Tho’ our feet must stand on the cold

cold brink

Of the Jord­an’s stor­my riv­er

With the King we’ll cross to the oth­er side

And we’ll sing His praise for­ev­er.