The time is swiftly rolling on,
When I must faint and die;
My body to the dust return,
And there forgotten lie.

Let persecution rage around,
And Anti-Christ appear;
My silent dust beneath the ground,
There’s no disturbance there.

Thru heats and colds I’ve often went,
And wandered in despair
To call poor sinners to repent,
And seek the Savior dear.

Recordings 12 3