From death below to life on high.
The Rustic, pointing to the spot,
Says “there my father’s ashes rest;”—
Whilst cherished feelings, ne’er forgot,
With sacred joy suffuse his breast.
“Oh! may I live the life he lived,
So pious, pure, and free from pride,
And when my spirit quits the earth
My bones be buried by his side.
“I love this ancient village church;