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A Little Country Church
‘Twas a little frame Country Church, standing over there,
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Many
times I walked this way, under parents’ loving care,
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We had a
special pew, room enough for a babe to have a bed,
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As we sat
quietly and listened to what the preacher said.
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He was a
man of God, the Spirit of God, through him truly ran,
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God’s
words he spoke to us, he was a Godly man,
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We would
sing the songs of old, about our Savior’s love,
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And how
awesome it would be when we get to Heaven above.
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Our
Church was out in the country, beside a lovely wood,
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We’d
listen to the gentle breeze, blowing through the trees, as
oft as we could,
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It seemed
so peaceful, the little Church ever so full of Grace,
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Wouldn't
it be a wonder someday, just to go back and see this
place?
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I can
almost hear the singing now, about how amazing was Gods
love,
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How the
river of life was ever flowing, in Heaven there above,
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When a
soul was saved by grace, the Angels would shout and sing,
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For the
victory of our Savior, to Heaven, more souls to bring.
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There
aren’t as many, little Churches today, standing closely
by,
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We would
have to go back to yesterday, maybe break down and cry,
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But those
days are gone forever, for now we have Churches of brick
and stone
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But if we
can still, in our hearts go back, then it’s never really
gone.
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........................................................................................................................ |
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Pearlie
Duncan Walker |
Church Photo courtesy of . . .
Cowboy Poems and
Stories |
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