Few More Years Shall Roll, A

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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