When purple shadows tint the west Where sleep the ones that I love best The night winds sing a lullaby, The zephyrs seem to softly sigh And nature offers sympathy To sooth the sorrow brought to me. I feel I stand on holy ground, That unseen angels crowd around The hallowed spot of mother-earth Where sleep the ones who gave me birth. To me, it is a sacred shrine Where God's own light will ever shine. Within a canopy of blue The twinkling stars come into view, The stately pines a requiem sing In recognition of Death's sting. My graves are guarded from above, Watched over by a God of Love. |