Come, all ye saints, to Pisgah’s mount­ain,
Come view your home be­yond the tide;
Hear now the voic­es of your loved ones,
What they sing on the oth­er side—
Some of bright crowns of glo­ry are sing­ing,
Some of dear ones who stand near the shore,
For the fond heart must ev­er be cling­ing
To the faith­ful we love ev­er­more.

Refrain

O the pros­pect it is so trans­port­ing
And no dan­ger I fear from the tide;
Let me go to the home of the Chris­tian,
Let me stand robed in white by His side.

There end­less springs of life are flow­ing,
There are the fields of liv­ing green;
Mansions of beau­ty are pro­vid­ed,
And the King of saints is seen.
Soon my con­flict and toils will be end­ed;
I shall join those who’ve passed on be­fore;
For my loved ones, O how do I miss them!
I must press on and meet them once more.

Refrain

Faith now be­holds the flow­ing riv­er,
Coming from un­der­neath the throne;
There, too, the Sav­ior reigns for­ev­er,
And He’ll wel­come the faith­ful home.
Would you sit by the banks of the riv­er
With the friends you have loved by your side?
Would you join the song of the an­gels?
Then be rea­dy to fol­low your guide.

Refrain