A. few more storms shall beat
On this wild rocky shore, And we shall be where tempests cease,
And surges swell no more :
Then, my Lord, prepare
My soul for that calm 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 toils, a few more tears.
And we shall weep no more :
Then, my Lord, prepare
My soul for that bright 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, my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day ;
Oh wash me in thy precious Blood, And take my sins away.
A few more Sabbaths here
Shall cheer us on our way. And we shall reach the endless rest.
The eternal Sabbath-day :
Then, my Lord, prepare
My soul for that sweet day ; 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 Uvea
That we with hitu may reign :
Then, my Lord, prepare
My soul for that glad day ; Oh wash me in thy precious Blood,
And take my sins away.
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