Our Father's Place

There is a house upon yon hill we call our father's place; the windows there are broken, the lawn a sad disgrace.

Was there we grew for many years, our lives and memories blessed; was there our father lived and died, and was sadly put to rest.

Uncle John and Cousin Jim are buried by his side;
with the tears and prayers that momma shed, and vainly tried to hide.

In the house upon yon hill, my Dee and I were wed;
the day was bright and flowers bloomed, and tears of joy were shed.

Our lives were blessed with little Bill, with Mary and baby Sue; our home we built with loving care, our fortune and family grew.

In the house upon yon hill, young Bill made up his mind; to devote his life to church and God, to work for all mankind.

For many months and years he toiled, to seek the living word; to learn the things God meant for us, though many seldom heard.

In the house upon yon hill, Bill took Lord Jesus as his guide; and as he stood before the crowd, my eyes were filled with pride.

It was God's will, he said one day, that he leave us for a while; to spread the hopes and dreams and love, and the words of the young Christ child.

This boy of God, my child of peace, marched boldly off to war; not with a rifle or deadly thing, but with his bible at the fore.

In the house upon yon hill, we laid young Bill to rest; he went to war and in God's hands, he passed his final test.

We were told by men in shiny brass what happened to our Bill; a man of peace, a man of love, whose memory we will fulfill.

A sneak attack, and many men, upon the decks of honor lay; their cries of fear and prayers to God, our son did hear them say.

No one to them, could make their way, for in the sinking ships they lay; but our Bill climbed boldly down the hatch, 'In the name of God!' They heard him say.

In the house upon yon hill, were a hundred men that day; they came to show their love of Bill, and to his family say.

When we were down, and prayed to God, to spare us from the grave; it was your Bill who heard his voice, and through him our God did save.

On December 7 of that faithful year, our Billy passed the test; beneath the waves of ocean blue, he lies in final rest.

There sets a house upon yon hill we call our father's place; for in this lonely house of God, we rest our final case.

God made men and men make war, and the graves are filled with tears; and the weeping voices of the slain, have cried throughout the years.

"Together we weep, my enemy and I, but not for ourselves you know; we weep for peace among all mankind, that we pray someday will grow."