Sadly we sing, and with trem­ulous breath,
As we stand by the mys­tic­al stream,
In the val­ley and by the dark ri­ver of death,
And yet ’tis no more than a dream.

Refrain

Only a dream, on­ly a dream,
And glo­ry be­yond the dark stream;
How peace­ful the slum­ber,
How hap­py the wak­ing;
For death is on­ly a dream.

Why should we weep when the wea­ry ones rest
In the bo­som of Je­sus su­preme,
In the man­sions of glo­ry pre­pared for the blest?
For death is no more than a dream.

Refrain

Naught in the ri­ver the saints should ap­pall,
Tho’ it fright­ful­ly dis­mal may seem;
In the arms of their Sav­ior no ill can be­fall,
They find it no more than a dream.

Refrain

Over the tur­bid and on­rush­ing tide
Doth the light of eter­ni­ty gleam;
And the ran­somed the dark­ness
And storm shall out­ride,
To wake with glad smiles from their dream.

Refrain