I am wait­ing by the ri­ver,
And my heart has wait­ed long;
Now I think I hear the chor­us
Of the an­gels’ wel­come song;
Oh! I see the dawn is break­ing
On the hill­tops of the blest,
Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling,
And the wea­ry be at rest.

Far away beyond the sha­dows
Of this wea­ry vale of tears,
There the tide of bliss is sweep­ing
Thro’ the bright and change­less years;
Oh! I long to be with Je­sus,
In the man­sions of the blest,
Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling,
And the wea­ry be at rest.

They are launch­ing on the ri­ver,
From the calm and qui­et shore,
And they soon will bear my spir­it
Where the wea­ry sigh no more.
For the tide is swift­ly flow­ing,
And I long to greet the blest,
Where the wick­ed cease from troub­ling,
And the weary be at rest.