The Old Churchyard

Come, come with me to the old churchyard
 I so well know that paths 'neath the soft green sward
 Friends in there that we want stay regard;
 We can trace out their names in the old churchyard
 Mourn not for them, for their trials are o'er
 And why weep for those who will weep no more?
 For sweet is their sleep, though cold and hard
 Their pillows lay deep in the old churchyard
 I know that it's vain when our friends depart
 To breathe kind words to a broken heart;
 And I know that the joy of life is marred
 When we follow lost friends to the old churchyard
 But were I at rest 'neath yonder tree
 (Oh), why would you weep, my friends, for me?
 I'm so weary, (so way) and worn, why would you retard
 The peace that I seek in the old churchyard?
 Why weep for me, for I'm ready(anxious) to go
 To that haven of rest where no tears ever flow;
 And I fear not to enter that dark lonely tomb
 Where our Savior has lain and conquered the gloom
 I rest in the hope that one bright day
 Sunshine will burst to these prisons of clay
 And (old)Gabriel's trumpet and then voice of the Lord
 Will wake up the dead in the old churchyard.