End Times
As the gold leaves on the ginkgo fall,
Upon the cold autumn earth.
I think how the winter winds
Sound, as they whip as if in mirth.
Winter is upon us, cold lies ahead.
Can we bear the storms of aging?
I can't help but those dread.
Sometimes I feel like raging.
Dear Lord Jesus, give me strength,
To face and handle each day given.
Help me be the kind of person,
That will be delighted in heaven.
Not just for the reward of gold streets
Nor of the river that flows
And, oh! that tree of life
Food for the body and soul
For the reward of meeting Jesus
And see those Christians gone before.
The awesome sound of the heavenly choir
As they sing original lines, set to a new score.
Oh!! To have love in my heart
A kind of love I have never known before.
To feel a part of a group of people,
Whose love does not keep score.
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