The Old Log Cabin
an old log cabin down an old rustic lane-
there's a big rock well with an old wooden
It was here that I knew childhood but it seems
that I trotted down that old rock path to my
grapevine swing to play.
I can still see my dear Mother as she tended
each sweet flower,
they seemed to nod their heads at her and beg
for her grand smile.
And there's a big red barn-just across the way,
where Daddy used to put just loads and loads of
And now I pass the woodshed-and I just have to
it was here I was the Doctor-and the patient
And there's the meadow pond, muddy now and gray,
where we used to play the hot summertime away.
And over on yon hill, a little church I see,
where Mom and Dad and Sis and I attended each
As I turn and walk away, a teardrop dims my eye,
I wonder when my time will come----
when I can be be on yon hill-where my parents
and sister lie.
Rest Well, Mom written 1929