Thursday, February 15

Meant to post this in early January, but forgot, of course.

Years ago, when I was a kid at First Baptist Church in Hereford, I remember on church service on the first Sunday of the New Year. Our best soprano sang a song that went to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, but with different words. The pastor dedicated it to all the people from the congregation who'd died the year before, reading their names out to the assembly. I've always remembered the song, memorized it, and sing it with regularity, especially when thinking of those who have passed.

So, this year, I'll post the song again.

For (not all of these have died in the past year, but they're the ones I always remember in prayers of the people at church) : Jim Hampton, Janelle Debris, Irene Pearcey, Gene Ledbetter, Richard Omondi.

It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it each and all:
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call.
They throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore:
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet
Who walk with us no more.

'Tis hard to pick the burden up
When these have laid it down;
They brightened every joy of life,
They softened every frown.
But oh, 'tis good to think of them
When we are troubled sore;
Thanks be to God that such have been
Though they are here no more.

More homelike seems the vast unknown
Since they have entered there,
'Tis not so hard to follow them
However they may fare.
They cannot be where God is not,
On any sea or shore:
What e'er betides, Thy love abides,
Our God, forevermore.

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