Shall we gather at the river,

Where bright angel feet have trod,

With its crystal tide forever

Flowing by the throne of God?

On the margin of the river,

Washing up its silver spray,

We will talk and worship ever,

All the happy golden day.

Yes, we'll gather at the river,

Gather at the river;

We will gather at the river, by the throne of God

Ere we reach the shining river,

We'll lay every burden down;

Grace our spirits will deliver,

And provide a robe and crown.

At the smiling of the river,

Mirror of the Savior's face,

Saints, whom death will never sever,

Lift their songs of saving grace.

Soon we'll reach the silver river,

Soon our pilgrimage will cease;

Soon our happy songs will quiver

With a melody of peace.