From The Christian Psalmist by Silas W Leonard and A D Fillmore. Louisville, KY: S. W. Leonard, 1854.

[The song is printed there with an odd kind of musical notation. There is no attribution.]


THE OLD CHURCH YARD

1. Oh, come, come with me to the old church yard.
I well know the path through the soft green sward.
Friends slumber there, we were wont to regard.
We'll trace out their names in the old church yard.
Oh, mourn not for them; their grief is o'er.
Weep not for them; they weep no more,
For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard
Their pillow may be in the old church yard.

2. I know it seems vain when friends depart
To breathe kind words to the broken heart.
I know that the joys of life seem marred
When we follow our friends to the old church yard.
But were I at rest beneath yon tree,
Why should you weep, dear friends, for me?
I'm wayworn and sad. Oh, why then retard
The rest that I seek in the old church yard?

3. Our friends linger there in the sweetest repose,
Released from the world's sad bereavements and woes,
And who would not rest with the friends they regard
In quietude sweet in the old church yard?
We'll rest in the hope of that bright day
When beauty shall spring from the prison of clay,
When Gabriel's voice and the trump of the Lord
Shall awaken the dead in the old church yard.

4. Oh! weep not for me; I am anxious to go
To that haven of rest where tears never flow.
I fear not to enter that dark, lonely ward,
For soon I shall rise from the old church yard.
Yes, soon I shall join that heavenly band
Of glorified souls at my Savior's right hand,
Forever to dwell in bright mansions prepared
For the saints, who shall rise from the old church yard.