Memory's Lane

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The church of my childhood, the Friend I made there.
The joys, the sorrows, the faith and the prayers.
The beautiful songs that we all loved so well,
I can hear them all now like a clear ringing bell.

I long to go back to that old memory's lane
To meet all my friends; hear the bell toll again.
I love to hear mother as she sang in the choir,
Then sit while the preacher would bring down the fire.

"Come now; seek the Lord," the preacher would shout.
The workers for God would then all start out?
They sought out the sinners. They talked of his soul.
They told them how Jesus would save and make whole.

How some of them shouted while others would sing.
Their voices all blending, would make heaven ring.
Some laughing, some praying while others would cry.
All drinking from fountains that never run dry.

Each night that old church would be filled to the door.
Next day they were out some where looking for more.
When the next service came, there were always some new.
They never once stopped with just saving a few.

The harvest was great and the reapers were, too.
They revived all the old while saving the new.
Gave glory to God as they all took the vow.
Once they were sinners, but God has them now.

The thoughts of those days no longer bring pain.
I know with God's help, I can live them again.
If I trust in His word, keep my faith in His name,
I will sing of his praise till He comes back to reign.

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Text of Hymn: "Memory's Lane," © Icie E. Sandy Rowand, 2002, all rights reserved.

Web page design and original graphics © Betty Sandy Smith, all rights reserved.