There's a little grave on the green hillside That lies to the morning sun And the wayworn 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 sufficient, Bill 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 And these little graves are but 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 this darksome veil 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