Scoutscan.com Song Database
Ye Saints who dwell on Europe's shore,
Prepare yourself for many more
To leave behind your native land,
For sure God's judgements are at hand.
For you must cross the raging main
Before the promised land you gain,
And with the faithful make a start
To cross the plains with your handcart.
For some must push and some must pull
As we go marching up the hill;
So merrily on the way we go
Until we reach the valley-o!
And long befor the valley the valley's gained,
We will be met upon the plains
With music sweet and friens so dear
And fresh supplies our heart to cheer.
And then with music and with song,
How cheerfully we'll march along
And thank the day we made a start
To cross the plains with our handcart.