The Children’s Song.
We are going, going, going,
To a land where all is light,
Where are flowing, flowing, flowing
Living waters, pure and bright;
Here we learn redemption's story,
Here we seek our Saviour's grace,
There we shall behold his glory,
Worshiping before his face.
We are singing, singing, singing,
As we joyful pass along;
Hear the ringing, ringing, ringing
Of our glad triumphant song;
Happiness our hearts is swelling,
As we ever upward tend,
And we cannot cease from telling
Of our precious heavenly Friend.
We are trying, trying, trying
Manfully to fight with sin;
While the days are flying, flying,
We would grow more pure within;
For the meek ones and the lowly
God will as his chosen own;
Naught polluted or unholy
Shall behold his spotless throne.
Thus, while years are fleeting, fleeting,
Pace we on with prayer and song,
Hasting to the meeting, meeting
Of the blood-washed, ransomed throng.
Jesus, Saviour, leave us never,
Help us faithful still to prove;
Then, at home with thee forever,
May we gathered be above!
YI