1.A few more years shall roll, A few more seasons come, And we shall meet the loved who now Are sleeping in 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! 2.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; O, wash me in Thy precious blood, And take my sins away! 3.A few more struggles here, A few more partings sore, 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; O, wash me in Thy precious blood, And take my sins away! 4.'Tis but a little while, And He shall come again, Who died that we might live, who lives That we may with Him reign. Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that glad day; O, wash me in Thy precious blood, And take my sins away!