Come Spring

I stood in a lonely room
Of a mother old and gray
Her voice so weak, she could hardly speak
I brushed a tear away
She was watching the little snowflakes falling on her window pane
She breathed a sigh and then replied,
«I'll be gone to be with Jesus
Come spring»
Before the roses bloom in my garden
I’ll be gathering flowers in a better land
Before the fields are green, before the robin sings
I’ll be gone to be with Jesus come spring
There’s a big gate standing open
A gentle voice calls me home
Soon I’ll be in God’s country
In a garden of my own
With my troubles far behind me
And my body free from pain
When the sun melts the snow and the warm winds blow
I’ll be gone to be with Jesus, come spring
And now the roses bloom in her garden
And she’s gathering flowers in a better land
She’s gone where angels sing
Earth’s loss is Heaven’s gain
But we’ll meet when God gathers flowers, come spring
I know we’ll meet when God gathers flowers
Come spring