 English text
1. Farewell, poor world, I must be gone,
Thou art no home, no rest for me;
I'll take my staff, and travel on,
Till I a better world may see.
2. Why art thou loath, my heart, O why
Dost thus recoil within my breast?
Grieve not, but say farewell, and fly
Unto the Ark, my dove, there's rest.
3. I come, my Lord! A pilgrim's pace,
Weary and weak, I slowly move;
Longing, but can't yet reach the place,
The gladsome place of rest above.
4. I come, my Lord! The floods here rise,
These troubled seas foam naught but mire;
My Dove back to my bosom flies.
Farewell, poor world! Heav'n's my desire.
5. Stay, stay, said earth, whither, fond one?
Here's a fair world, what wouldst thou have?
Fair world? O no, thy beauty's gone,
A heavenly Canaan, Lord, I crave.
6. Thus the ancient travelers, thus they
Weary of earth, sighed after Thee;
They are gone before; I may not stay
Till I both Thee and them may see.
7. Put on, my soul! Put on with speed;
Though the way be long, the end is sweet;
Once more, poor world! Farewell indeed;
In leaving thee, my Lord I meet.
– Samuel Crossman, 1664
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English text
1. Farewell vain world, I must be gone,
I have no home or stay in thee;
I'll take my staff, and travel on
Till I a better world can see.
2. Why art thou loath, my heart, O why,
Dost thou recoil within my breast?
Grieve not, but say, farewell, and fly
Unto the ark, my Dove, there's rest.
3. I come, my Lord, a pilgrim's pace;
Weary and weak, I slowly move;
Longing, but yet can't reach the place,
The gladsome place of rest above.
4. I come, my Lord, the floods here rise;
These troubled seas foam nought but mire;
My dove back to my bosom flies;
Farewell poor world, heav'n's my desire.
5. Stay, stay, said earth, whither fond one,
Here's a fair world, what would'st thou have?
Fair world, O no! thy beauty's gone,
A heav'nly Canaan, Lord, I crave.
6. Thus the ancient travelers, thus they,
Weary of earth, groaned after Thee,
They are before, I must not stay
Till I both Thee and them may see.
7. Put on, my soul, put on with speed,
Though the way be long, the end is sweet:
Once more, poor World, farewell, indeed:
In leaving thee, my Lord I meet.
– Samson Occom, 1774, Hymn 45
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English text
1. Fare you well, my friends, I must be gone,
I have no home nor stay with you,
I'll take my staff, and travel on,
Till I a better world may view.
I'll march to Canaan's land,
I'll land on Canaan's shore,
Where pleasures never end,
And troubles come no more.
Farewell, my loving friends, farewell.
– Jacob French, 1793-1802
English text
1. Farewell, my friends, I must be gone,
I have no home nor stay with you,
I'll take my staff, and travel on,
Till I a better world shall view.
I'll march to Canaan's land,
I'll land on Canaan's shore,
Where pleasures never end,
And troubles come no more.
Farewell, my loving friends, farewell.
2. Farewell, my friends, time rolls along,
Nor waits for mortals' care or bliss;
I leave you here, and travel on,
Till I arrive where Jesus is.
3. Farewell, my brethren in the Lord,
To you I'm bound in cords of love;
Yet we believe His gracious word,
We all shall meet Him soon above.
4. Farewell, old soldiers of the cross,
You've struggled long and hard for heaven;
You've counted all things here but dross,
Fight on, the crown shall soon be given.
– Henry Beecher, 1855
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English text
1. Let us rise and go to Zion's hill,
Where all the peace and glory dwells,
And set and sing to God my King,
And praise His name forever more.
I'll go and see what joy is there.
2. Fare you well, my friends, I must be gone;
I have no home nor stay with you:
I'll take my staff, and travel on
Till I a better world can view.
Farewell, my loving friends, farewell.
3. Happy soul, just gone from earth to heaven,
He flies to distant worlds above;
No more in this poor house of clay,
He dwells with God around his throne,
Where pain and death can never come.
4. We will go, like him, to see our God,
And change this earth for heaven above:
Come dry your tears, Christ is our friend,
He came to fave poor sinful men,
In him our sorrows soon will end.
5. Travel on to blest eternity,
Where Jesus waits for us to come;
In death's dark gloom shout victory,
And rise to your eternal home
Where tear and change shall be no more.
6. Golden joys above where Jesus dwells,
His love is full for every saint;
Fountain of life immortal flows,
Through heavenly world without restraint.
All's mine, if faithful here below.
– Jeremiah Ingalls, 1905
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