A Mormon Song

By Rhoda Watson, London

We soon shall cross the briny sea, Hurrah, Hurrah.
Farewell to Bab’lon’s tyranny, Hurrah, Hurrah.
I’ve heard our brother Orson say
That soon we all shall haste away,
And we’ll feel gay when we go marching home.

We are only waiting for the spring, Hurrah, Hurrah.
Then we will make the Prairie ring, Hurrah, Hurrah.
We’ll mingle with one heart and voice,
As with each other we rejoice,
And we’ll feel gay when we go marching home.

Yes, we will leave our childhood homes, Hurrah, Hurrah,
There in that happy clime to come, Hurrah, Hurrah.
Our friends out here may laugh & jeer,
We care not for their scornful sneer,
But we’ll all feel gay when we go marching home.

We will each others’ burdens share, Hurrah, Hurrah.
We all are longing to be there, Hurrah, Hurrah,
Yes, we will lend a helping hand
As on we journey to that land,
And we’ll all feel gay when we go marching home.

Come, Sisters, join me in my song, Hurrah, Hurrah.
Be merry as we go along, Hurrah, Hurrah.
When there we many friends shall meet
And Parents will their Children greet,
And we’ll all feel gay when we are safe at home.

We’ll meet the Prophet Brigham then, Hurrah, Hurrah,
And many other righteous men, Hurrah, Hurrah.
O, how the saints will dance & sing
We will make Utah’s valleys ring,
And we’ll all feel gay when we are safe at home.

(August 1867)