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;
O wash me in thy precious blood,
And take my sins away.
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;
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;
'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;