I like to stand, looking out, in the room behind the altar
And behold a scene, so still, so quiet, that time should never alter.
The gravestones lie in still repose, at peace, and ever resting
At this place that I so love, anointed with God’s blessing.
The angel with her weathered wings, stands sentinel for ever,
The ivy covered cross is there, firmly planted ever,
The seasons pass and change with time, the grass is green then yellow
The sun is setting over it, so warm and fat and mellow.
All this I see, all this I think, and my fondness does not falter
As I look ’round, O beloved graveyard! from the room behind the altar.