A thought to soothe in sorrow. each drooping head to raise,
The Church above doth join us in every deed of praise;
That earthly music swelling is echoed far above,
And, keeping step, we alway may share the Saviour's love.
The Church above doth join us in every deed of praise;
That earthly music swelling is echoed far above,
And, keeping step, we alway may share the Saviour's love.
A thought our faith to strengthen, in that dread valley dim,
Of each who went before us as conqueror through Him;
The battle cry falls faintly upon the dying ear,
Yet, keeping step, we'll conquer, for victory is near.
Of each who went before us as conqueror through Him;
The battle cry falls faintly upon the dying ear,
Yet, keeping step, we'll conquer, for victory is near.
OLD-FASHIONED RELIGION
We've forgotten, in the bustle of these modern times we know,
The tender, true religion of the peaceful long ago;
A dim and shadowy picture that memory scarce can see,
The grandmother so saintly, the Good Book on her knee.
The tender, true religion of the peaceful long ago;
A dim and shadowy picture that memory scarce can see,
The grandmother so saintly, the Good Book on her knee.
We've forgotten baby voices as they lisped the little prayer;
We've forgotten mother's teachings (left now in nurse's care);
All the troubled child-confessions that mothers used to hear,
And "father" is a "governor" now, not one they must revere.
We've forgotten mother's teachings (left now in nurse's care);
All the troubled child-confessions that mothers used to hear,
And "father" is a "governor" now, not one they must revere.
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