| Sadly we sing and with tremulous breath
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| As we stand by the mystical stream
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| In the valley and by the dark river of death
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| And yet 'tis no more than a dream
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| Only a dream, only a dream
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| Of glory beyond the dark stream
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| How peaceful the slumber, how happy the waking
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| Where death is only a dream
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| Why should we weep when the weary ones rest
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| In the bosom of Jesus supreme
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| In the mansions of glory prepared for the blessed
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| For death is no more than a dream
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| Naught in the river the Saints should appall
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| Though' it frightfully dismal may seem
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| In the arms of our Savior no ill can befall
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| They find it no more than a dream
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| Over the turbid and onrushing tide
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| Doth the light of eternity gleam
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| And the ransomed the darkness and storm shall out ride
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| To wake with glad smiles from their dream |