TILL THE SANDS OF THE DESERT GROW COLD

TILL THE SANDS OF THE DESERT GROW COLD
Song
Ernest R.Ball
Geo. Graff, Jr.
M. Witmark & Sons

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.

CHORUS:
Till the sands of the desert grow cold,
And their infinite numbers are told,
God gave thee to me,
And mine shalt thou be,
Forever to have and to 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.
Love me, I’ll love thee.

TILL THE SANDS OF THE DESERT GROW COLD