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