On Jordan's Stormy Banks
No Chilling winds, nor poi-sn'ous breath,
Can reach that health-ful shore;
Sick-ness and sor-row, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.
I am bound for the Prom-ised Land;
I am bound for the Prom-ised Land.
Ooooh, who will come and go with me?
I am bound for the Prom-ised Land.
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