My Favourite Hymns. - Poem by Bernard Shaw
They are singing my favourite Hymns again,
In the Chapel on top of the hill,
I quietly join in with each refrain,
And still feel the age-old thrill.
The thrill I felt as a young boy,
When religion governed my life.
Singing has always been my one great joy,
Taking me away from all lowly strife.
I was once a boy in the choir,
A soprano voice was mine.
My heart was full of desire,
I sang each note so fine.
Sundays in the Chapel I sang,
Choir practice twice a week,
My voice loud and clear rang,
For my Lord I did feverishly seek.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You