Come, Come, Ye Saints

Come

come

ye saints

No toil nor la­bor fear;

But with joy

wend your way.

Though hard to you

This jour­ney may ap­pear

Grace shall be as your day.

’Tis bet­ter far for us to strive

Our use­less cares from us to drive;

Do this

and joy your hearts will swell

All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn

Or think our lot is hard?

’Tis not so

all is right.

Why should we think

To earn a great re­ward

If we now shun the fight?

Gird up your loins; fresh cour­age take;

Our God will nev­er us for­sake

And soon we’ll have this tale to tell

All is well! All is well!

We’ll find the place

Which God for us pre­pared

In His house full of light

Where none shall come

To hurt or make afraid;

There the saints will shine bright.

We’ll make the air with mu­sic ring

Shout praises to our God and king;

Above the rest these words we’ll tell

All is well! All is well!

And should we die

Be­fore our jour­ney’s through

Happy day! All is well!

We then are free

From toil and sor­row

too;

With the just we shall dwell!

But if our lives are spared again

To see the saints their rest ob­tain

O how we’ll make this chor­us swell

All is well! All is well!