Cat. #0885 (MFH #488) - As sung by Ollie Gilbert, Mountain View, Arkansas on August 29, 1969
VERSE 1
O, come with me to the ole church yard
I well know th path thru th soft green swore
Our friends slumbers there want to regard
We'll trace out their names in th old church yard
VERSE 2
Mourn not for them, their grief is o'er
Weep not for them, they'll weep no more
For deep is th sleep, the cold and hard
Their pillows may be in th ole church yard
VERSE 3
O, where I rest beneath yon tree
Why should you weep, dear friends for me
I'm wayworn an' sad, O why, the retard
Th rest I'll see, is in th ole church yard
VERSE 4
I will rest in th hopes of that bright day
When th beauty shall spring from th prison of clay
When Gabriels voice an' th trump of th Lord
Will wake th dead in th ole church yard