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GRAVE ON THE GREEN HILLSIDE
(A. P. Carter, 1929)

There's a little grave on the green hillside that lies to the morning sun,
And the way-worn feet often wander there when the cares of the day are done.
We sometimes sit in the twilight fall and talk of a far-off land,
And I sometimes feel in the twilight there the touch of a vanished hand.

CHORUS: Grave on the green hillside,
Grave on the green hillside,
In the years to come we will calmly sleep
In a grave on the green hillside.

And this land is full of these little graves in the valleys, plains, and hills.
There's an angel, too, for each little grave, an angel sufficient, Bill.
I know not how, but I sometimes think that they lead us with gentle hands,
And a whisper falls on a willing ear from the shore of a far-off land. CHORUS

And these little graves are but wayside marks that point to a far-off land,
And they speak to the soul of a better day, of a day that's near at hand.
Though we first must walk through this darksome veil, (vale) yet Christ will be our guide.
We will reach the shore of a far-off land through a grave on a green hillside. CHORUS