No, no, it is not dy­ing
To go un­to our God;
This gloomy earth for­sak­ing,
Our jour­ney home­ward tak­ing
Along the star­ry road.

No, no, it is not dy­ing
Heaven’s ci­ti­zen to be;
A crown im­mor­tal wear­ing,
And rest un­brok­en shar­ing,
From care and con­flict free.

No, no it is not dy­ing
To hear this gra­cious word,
Receive a Fa­ther’s bless­ing,
Forevermore pos­sess­ing
The fa­vor of thy Lord.

No, no it is not dy­ing
The Shep­herd’s voice to know:
His sheep He ev­er lead­eth,
His peace­ful flock He feed­eth,
Where liv­ing pas­tures grow.

No, no it is not dy­ing
To wear a lord­ly crown;
Among God’s peo­ple dwell­ing,
The glo­ri­ous tri­umph swell­ing
Of Him whose sway we own.