I was walkin' in Savannah past a church,
decayed and dim
When there slowly through the window came
a plaintive fu neral hymn
My sympathy awakened,
my wonder quickly grew
Till I found myself environed in
a little negro pew
Down in front a young couple
sat in sor row, nearly wild
On the altar was a coffin,
in the coffin was a child
Rose a sad, old negro preacher
at a little wooden desk
In a manner grandly awkward
with a countenance grotesque
And he said "Now,
don't be weepin' for this pretty bit of clay
For the little boy that lived there,
he done gone and run away
He's doin' very finely and
he appreciates your love
But his sure enough Father want
him in that large house up above
He didn't give you that baby
by a hundred thousand miles
He just think you need some sunshine
and He lent it for a while
And He let ya love and keep it
till your hearts were bigger grown
And these silver tears you're sheddin',
they's just interest on the loan
So, my poor dejected mourners,
let your hearts with Jesus rest
Don't go criticizin' the One
that knows the best
He's give us many comforts,
He has the right to take away
To the Lord, be praised in glory now and ever,