I’m A Pilgrim, And I’m A Stranger,
I Can Tarry, I Can Tarry But A Night ;
Do Not Detain Me, For I Am Going
To Where The Streamlets Are Ever Flowing.

I’m A Pilgrim, And I’m A Stranger ;
I Can Tarry, I Can Tarry But A Night
I’m A Pilgrim, And I’m A Stranger !
I Can Tarry, I Can Tarry But A Night.

Of That City, To Which I Journey,
My Redeemer, My Redeemer Is The Light;
There Is No Sorrow, Nor Any Sighing,
Nor Any Tears There, Nor Any Dying.

There The Sunbeams Are Ever Shining ;
Oh, My Longing Heart, My Longing Heart Is There ;
Here In This Country, So Dark And Dreary,
I Long Have Wandered Forlorn And Weary.