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Dying Preacher

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Dying Preacher

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Dying Preacher

The time is swiftly rollin' on
When I must faint and die
My body to the dust returned
And there forgotten lie

My lovely wife, my bosom friend,
The object of my love,
The times was sweet I spent with you,
My sweet an' harmless dove.

An' oft-times you have looked for me,
An' oft-times seen me come,
But I must shortly part from thee
An' nevermore return.

My little children near my heart,
Who nature seems to bind,
It sure does grieve me to depart
An' leave you all behind.

My brother preachers, boldly speak,
An' stand on Zion's wall,
Revive the strong, confirm the weak,
An' after sinners call.
From Ozark Folk-Songs, Randolph
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E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III