The hot winds that come to thee
O’er desert sands all go from me,
I bid them to tell thee that I love thee,
Speeding my soul to thee.
Hot sands burning,
Fire my veins with passion bold,
Love I’ll love thee, till desert sands grow cold!
Love me, I’ll love thee
Till the sands of the desert grow cold,
And their infinite numbers are told,
God gave thee, to me,
And mine thou shalt be,
Forever to have and hold
Till the story of Judgment is told,
And the myst’ries of Heaven unfold,
I’ll turn, love, to thee,
My shrine thou shalt be
Till the sands of the desert grow cold.
The desert, a burning sea,
A barrier stands ‘tween thee and me,
Or love, fast as light, I’d hasten to thee,
Quenching my thirst in thee.
Noon suns find me,
Far behind the caravan,
Death there warns me, how vain is the strength of man.
Graff, Geo. Jr. and Ball, Ernest R., "Till the Sands of the Desert Grow Cold" (1911). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1514.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.