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

A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er; A few more tolls, 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 lake my sins away.

A few more sabbaths here, Shall cheer. us on our way; And we shall reach the endless rest, The eternal sabbath. Then, O my Lord, prepare Oh, wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.

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