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O'er Countless Graves
O'er countless graves the teardrops flow
to earth to nourish mem'ries that grow.
Cherished the place, remembered each face,
each sparce, narrow garden is a holy place;
those whose love turned grief now know.
Strong word is "Love", despite Death's throe.
Hope's sunrise there; Grief's night here below.
Peaceful Love with Stately Grief God doth replace,
o'er countless graves.
Raise up their dream! They tell us, "GO !
Liberty 's strong thread, run it ! So
our hopes, dreams, fires of Soul may pace
yet coming runners in Life's race,
and ALL win !" 'Though Death counts countless tears
. . . . . o'er countless graves.
