Few More Years Shall Roll

a few more years shall roll,
a few more seasons come,
and we shall be with those that rest
asleep within the tomb;
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that great day.

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o wash me in thy precious blood,
and take my sins away.

a few more suns shall set
o’er these dark hills of time,
and we shall be where suns are not
a far serener clime:
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that blest day.

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a few more storms shall beat
on this wild rocky shore,
and we shall be where tempests cease,
and surges swell no more;
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that calm day.

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a few more struggles here,
a few more partings o’er,
a few more toils, a few more tears,
and we shall weep no more:
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that bright day.

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a few more sabbaths here
shall cheer us on our way,
and we shall reach the endless rest,
th’eternal sabbath day;
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that sweet day.

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’tis but a little while,
and he shall come again
who died that we might live, who lives
that we with him may reign;
then, o my lord, prepare
my soul for that glad day.

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