A few more years shall roll,
A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those at rest,
Asleep within the tomb.

A few more storms shall beat,
On this wild, rocky shore,
And we shall be where tempests cease,
And surges swell no more.

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 great day;
Oh, wash me in Thy precious blood,
And take my sins away.

Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that great day;