That sleeps in the still old church-yard now.
It wrung my heart—oh! it wrung my heart,
When I saw them one by one depart;
And they cost me full many a tear of wo,
For my hopes then hung on the things below.
But the visions of earthly joy grow dim,
With the whitening hair and the failing limb.
I am old and gray—I am old and gray,
But I’ve strength enough left me to kneel and pray;
And morning and evening I bless the power