Won’t
you lay me to rest in the churchyard,
The
path I have trod has been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree
My friends
and loved ones can come visit me.
I have
gone to the grave of my best friend,
And
stood, thinking back over all the years;
How
it helped my poor, broken heart to mend
As I
stood there beside it, shedding tears.
We laid
him to rest in the old churchyard,
The
path he traveled had been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree…
That
lovely spot is so precious to me.
Sometimes
I see widows stand there weeping,
Mourning
the loss of the one they held dear;
It’s
as if their loved one was but sleeping
And
that he’d awake if they’d linger near.
She
laid him to rest in the old churchyard,
The
path he traveled had been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree…
Her
precious husband she oft went to see.
I once
saw some children with heads bowed low,
There
they stood with wounds that time won’t erase;
I’m
sure their daddy would want them to know
That
he now lives in a much better place.
They
laid him to rest in the old churchyard,
The
path he had trod had been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree
His
loving children came for him to see…
How those
precious mem’ries now fill my heart
As I
reflect on the people I’ve known;
It helps
to remember – though we’re apart
We’ll
meet again when eternity dawns!
Right
now they are resting in the churchyard,
The
pathway they walked had been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree
My friends
are waiting to be joined by me.
When
I have passed over to meet the Lord,
Leaving
behind this old shell of clay;
Remember
the promise found in His Word:
I’ll
live again come Resurrection Day!
Won’t
you lay me to rest in the churchyard,
The
path I have trod has been oh, so hard;
There,
‘neath the shade of the sycamore tree
My friends
and loved ones can come visit me.
H.
L. Gradowith
11-26-2001
Gradowiths
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