I was walking in Savannah
Past a church decayed and dim
When slowly through the window
Came a plaintive funeral hymn
And my sympathy awakened
And a wonder quickly grew
Till I found myself envired
In a little colored pew
Out front a colored couple
Sat and sorrowed yet a while
On the altar was a casket
And in the casket was a child
I could picture him while living
Curly hair, protruding lips
I'd seen perhaps a thousand
In my hurried southern trips
Rose a sad, old colored preacher
From his little wooden desk
With a manner sort of awkward
And countenance grotesque
The simplicity and shrewdness
In his Ethiopian face
Showed the wisdom and ignorance
Of a crushed, undying race
And he said, "Now don't be weeping
For this pretty bit of clay
For the little boy who lived there
Has done gone and run away
He was doing very finely
And he appreciates your love
But his shore enough father
Wanted him in the big house up above
The Lord didn't give you that baby
By no hundred thousand miles
He just thought you need some sunshine
And he lent it for a while
And he let you keep and love it
Till your hearts were bigger grown
And these silver tears you're shedding now
Is just interest on the loan
Just think my poor dear mourners
Creeping long on sorrow's way
What a blessed picnic
This here baby got today
Your good fathers and good mothers
Crowd the little fella round
And the angels tend the garden
Of the big plantation ground
And his eyes they brightly sparkle
At the pretty things he view
But a tear came and he whispered
"I want my parents too"
Then the Angel's chief musicians
Teach that little boy a song
Says if only they be faithful
They'll soon be coming long
And so my poor dear mourners
Let your hearts with Jesus rest
And don't go to criticizing
The one what knows the best
He has give us many comforts
He's got the right to take away
To the Lord be praise and glory
Forever, let us pray