Ye weary, heavy laden souls, Who are oppressed and sore; Ye trav'llers through this wilderness, To Canaan's peaceful shore; Through chilling winds and beating rains And waters deep and cold, And enemies surrounding you, Take courage and be bold. Though storms and hurricanes arise, The desert all around, And fiery serpents oft appear In this enchanted ground; Dark nights and clouds, and gloomy fears, And dragons often roar; Yet, in the great Redeemer's strength, We'll press to Canaan's shore. We're often like the lonesome dove, That mourns her absent mate; From hill to hill, from grove to grove, Her woes she doth relate; But Canaan just before us lies, Sweet spring is coming on; A few more beating winds and rains And winter will be gone. Fare well, my brethren in the Lord, Who are for Canaan bound, And should we never meet again Till Gabriel's trump shall sound, I hope that I shall meet you there On that delightful shore, In mansions of eternal bliss Where parting is no more.