When the friends we love the best Lie in their churchyard bed, We must not cry too bitterly Over the happy dead.
Cecil Frances AlexanderThere is a green hill far away, Without a city wall, Where the dear Lord was crucified, Who died to save us all.
Cecil Frances AlexanderThe rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, God made them, high or lowly, And order'd their estate.
Cecil Frances AlexanderOnce in royal David's city Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a Mother laid her Baby In a manger for His bed: Mary was that Mother mild Jesus Christ her little Child . . . With the poor, and mean, and lowly, Lived on earth our Savior Holy.
Cecil Frances Alexander