We are marching onward, upward,
We are traveling toward the prize;
And if Jesus is our watchword,
We will reach the upper skies.
We are coming, blessèd Savior,
To the consecrated cross;
And we’ll ever live for Jesus,
Counting all things else as loss.
We will wash our robes, and make them
Pure and spotless as the throne,
So that when we reach that haven,
We shall know as we are known.
We will drink the living water;
We will lie in pastures green;
We will live, to live hereafter,
When we reach the great unseen.