Old Country Church

There's a place dear to me where I'm longing to be

With my friends at the old country church

There with mother we went and our Sundays were spent

With my friends at the old country church

Sometime in fond memory my thoughts go back to

The old country church that I attended as a boy

You know it's funny how we cling to old

Bygone days and bygone places, isn't it?

You know, it seems like only yesterday that

My mother clasped my childish hand in hers

And led me down that long winding road to hear the word of God

Now according to my Sunday school teacher

God was supposed to be everywhere

And too I seemed to sense His unseen

Presence there in the old country church

More strongly that day than any other place I've ever known

There with the humming of the bees and the singing of the birds

Just drifting in through the open windows to

Mingle with the sweet harmonizing of the choir

I just knew that God was surely with me

I knew it as surely as if He had lain His hand on my shoulder and said

"Welcome, welcome to My house, son"

Ah but years have passed and time has

Brought many heartaches and many tears

I've seen my mother pass into the great

Beyond and many loved ones have followed

I've watched them go with despaired heart and tear dimmed eyes

But now here in later years I stroll along the

Grassy footpath of the old country churchyard

And I view the final resting places of my departed kin

I'm consoled by the thoughts that their sleep is a peaceful one

Here in this spot where God and man are one

And once again I seem to hear the voice of the great Shepherd saying

"Welcome, welcome to My house, son"

Precious years of memories

Oh what joy they bring to me

How I long once more to be

With my friends at the old country church