Hymns in Human Experience

by William J. Hart

THE GOOD OLD HYMNS

There’s lots of music in ’em, the hymns of long ago;

An’ when some gray-haired brother sings the ones I used to know

I sorter want to take a hand—I think o’ days gone by—

“On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand and cast a wishful eye.”

There’s lots of music in ’em—those dear, sweet hymns of old,

With visions bright of lands of light and shining streets of gold;

And I hear ’em ringing—singing, where memory dreaming stands,

“From Greenland’s icy mountains to India’s coral strands.”