• 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 beat
    On 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, prepare
    My soul for that blest day;
    Oh, wash me in Thy precious blood,
    And take my sins away.