There’s a church in the valley by the wildwood,No lovelier spot in the dale;No place is so dear to my childhood,As the little brown church in the vale.
Come to the church in the wildwood,Oh, come to the church in the dale,No spot is so dear to my childhood,As the little brown church in the vale.
How sweet on a clear, Sabbath morning,To list to the clear ringing bell;Its tones so sweetly are calling,Oh, come to the church in the vale.
There, close by the church in the valley,Lies one that I loved so well;She sleeps, sweetly sleeps, ’neath the willow,Disturb not her rest in the vale.
There, close by the side of that loved one,To trees where the wild flowers bloom,When the farewell hymn shall be chantedI shall rest by her side in the tomb.
From the church in the valley by the wildwood,When day fades away into night,I would fain from this spot of my childhoodWing my way to the mansions of light.
Thou gracious Power, whose mercy lendsThe light of home, the smile of friends,Our families in Thine arms enfoldAs in the peaceful days of old.
Wilt Thou not hear us while we raise,In sweet accord of solemn praise,The voices that have mingled longIn joyous flow of mirth and song?
For all the blessings life has brought,For all its sorrowing hours have taught,For all we mourn, for all we keep,The hands we clasp, the loved that sleep.
The noontide sunshine of the past,These brief, bright moments fading fast,The stars that gild our darkening years,The twilight ray from holier spheres.
We thank Thee, Father; let Thy graceOur narrowing circle still embrace,Thy mercy shed its heavenly store,Thy peace be with us evermore.