Over yon­der in the church­yard,
Underneath the leafy trees,
There’s a place to me most sac­red,
Where dear mo­ther rests in peace.
There we laid her ’neath the wil­lows,
Where she calm­ly takes her rest,
Where the li­lacs and the ros­es
Sweetly bloom above her breast.

And the birds are sing­ing sweet­ly,
All around her qui­et grave,
And the ce­dars cast their sha­dows
As above her tomb they wave.
But be­yond this world of sad­ness,
Where we part with bit­ter tears,
There’s a land of joy and glad­ness,
With no more of cares or fears.

And dear mo­ther’s now with Je­sus,
In the peace­ful Beu­lah land;
There be­side the liv­ing wa­ters
She is with the an­gel band.
Now our hearts are sad and lone­ly,
For we miss dear mo­ther so;
But if we are on­ly faith­ful,
To that hap­py land we’ll go.

There again we’ll meet dear mo­ther,
And be part­ed ne­ver­more;
There we’ll sing the love of Je­sus,
While the cease­less ag­es roll.
No more part­ing, no more sad­ness,
No more weep­ing, no more fears;
But in that bright land, Elysium,
Christ will wipe away all tears.