Rob Gardner
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
Far away in the West
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid;
There the saints will be blessed
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!