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. Oh 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.
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 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.
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. Amen.