A few more years shall roll,A few more seasons come;And we shall be with those that rest,Asleep within the tomb.A few more storms shall beatOn 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, prepareMy soul for that blest day;Oh, wash me in Thy precious blood,And take my sins away.

A few more years shall roll,A few more seasons come;And we shall be with those that rest,Asleep within the tomb.A few more storms shall beatOn 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, prepareMy soul for that blest day;Oh, wash me in Thy precious blood,And take my sins away.