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Drifting Away

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 10, 1913

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 90, No. 28.

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Drifting Away

By L. D. Santee

L. D. SANTEE
Drifting away, drifting away, Sometimes to weep by a dead friend's clay, Sometimes tears by a couch of pain, But time brings smiles to the lips again; So through this life we wend our way, We are drifting, drifting, drifting away.
Drifting away, drifting away, Hair that was auburn is turning gray, Faces once smooth are furrowed by care, For the burdens of life are hard to bear. Flowers once fragrant are dead today: We are drifting, drifting, drifting away.
Drifting away, drifting away; Nearing ever the judgment-day, Nearer ever the city bright Or the awful gloom of a hopeless night; O let us weep, and God's pity pray, For souls to perdition are drifting away!
Drifting away, drifting away; Flowers that are fairest seldom stay. Sometimes the orange wreath weaves her spell, Sometimes to wear death's asphodel; Soon comes the shadow of dying day. We are drifting, drifting, drifting away.
Drifting away, drifting away. Over the heavens do lightnings play; Over the earth do mortals weep, Till the Lord gives his beloved sleep; Soon shall our earth-life pass for aye. We are drifting, drifting, drifting away.
Moline, Ill.