1 On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.
Don’t you feel like going home,
Don’t you feel like going home;
My home it is in the promised land,
And I feel like going home.

2 O the transporting rapt’rous scene,
That rises to my sight!
Sweet fields arrayed in living green,
And rivers of delight.
Yes, I feel like going home,
Yes, I feel like going home;
My home it is in the promised land,
And I feel like going home.