Grave On The Green Hill Side

There's a little grave on the green hillside that lies to the morning sun, and the way-worn feet often wander there, when the cares of the day are done. We sometimes sit in the twilight fall and talk of a far off land, and I sometimes feel in the twilight there the touch of a vanished hand. Grave on the green hillside, grave on the green hillside, in the years to come we will calmly sleep - in a grave on the green hillside. And this land is full of these little graves in the valleys, plains and hills, there's an angel, too, for each little grave, an angel so mission-filled. I know not how but I sometimes think that they lead us with gentle hands, and a whisper falls on a willing ear from the shore of a far off land. Grave on the green hillside, grave on the green hillside, in the years to come we will calmly sleep - in a grave on the green hillside. ( A ) And these little graves are the wayside marks that point to a far off land, and they speak to the soul of a better day, of a day that's near at hand. Though we first must walk through dark, some fail, yet Christ will be our guide, we will reach the shore of a far off land through a grave on a green hillside. Grave on the green hillside, grave on the green hillside, in the years to come we will calmly sleep - in a grave on the green hillside.