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