I stood on the brink of a river;
’Twas deep and ’twas dark and ’twas wide;
And I said, as I looked at the current,
Tell me how I can reach the far side.
As I looked I could see in the distance
A city that shone like pure gold;
’Twas surrounded by walls that for beauty
Were a marvel indeed to behold.

The spires of that beautiful city
Were glowing with marvelous light,
And the walls were composed of pure jasper,
And the gates were of pearl—what a sight!
And the city stood high on the mountain,
Where the air was most healthful and pure,
And the Lord who had builded that city
Had made its foundations secure.

So I longed for some means to pass over,
But none I could think of was nigh;
In that city saints live on forever,
But here they both sicken and die.
As I longingly looked, a gate opened
And out came a Being I knew;
His face was aglow with the glory:
’Twas Jesus, the Faithful and True.

Down He came to the edge of the river,
Where a boat at the brink had been moored;
It was there to be launched by the Master,
And for Him it had there been secured.
I watched and I saw Him untie it—
What a beautiful vision to see!
And in it He climbed, and He started
To cross o’er the river for me.

I looked and I saw He was coming,
And nearer and nearer He came;
Then suddenly Satan stood by me;
(Rebuke him, O Lord, in Thy name!)
He was dressed in the latest of fashion,
But at once I was sure it was he,
And to Satan I said, He is coming,
My Savior is coming for me.

And Satan looked at me and twisted
His lips as he answered with scorn,
That isn’t your Saviour, your Jesus!
He’ll never come for you, I warn.
I know Him, I said, get behind me
Your presence is not be feared;
He is coming to take me to Hea­ven,
And Satan at once disappeared.

My Saviour came on o’er the river,
And the little boat soon reached the strand,
I walked to the edge of the water,
And He reached out and gave me His hand;
I climbed in the boat and was sitting
My hea­ven­ly Pi­lot be­side,
And down in my heart I was thanking
My Lord I was one of the Bride.

We started to cross o’er the river;
Not a word did my Lover Lord say,
And nearer we came to the city
That had seemed once to be far away;
We gently moved onward together,
And soon we were out in midstream—
And then I awoke from my slumber
And, behold, it was only a dream.

But some day I’ll stand by that river,
And some day mine eyes shall behold,
Beyond the dark waters that city,
With its streets that are paved with pure gold;
And I’m sure that the Lord of redemption,
Who died my poor soul to redeem,
Will see that I safely get over,
And then it will not be a dream!

J. Narver Gortner (1874–1961)