On blessed Sabbath afternoons
We gather together at
nursing homes
We take along our voices,
raised up
In harmony unto our
dearest Lord
We bring some joy into a
lonely world
Where the elderly folk
live each day
It is the gift of song we
bring to them
For we know how precious
it truly is
To invite our Lord and
angels in
Though some sit hunched
and forlorn
It is a pleasure to see
their smile anon
As they remember to praise
the dear Lord
In voices weak, infirm:
maybe not as strong
But the joy those memories
do bring
Is to be seen and heard as
they join in
Ah it lifts my heart and
soul to see them
Singing hymns unto our
dear Lord
These poor in spirit, old,
infirm, bereft
Are blessed as well by
their smiles...
By their simple voices, rising
up
Unto the Lord in singing
hymns
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