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w. h. schneider.
His genial smile and cheery voice
Many will miss with keenest pain;
Of him bereft, a blank is left
It will be hard to fill again.
Many will miss with keenest pain;
Of him bereft, a blank is left
It will be hard to fill again.
Peace to the dead! whose hoary head
Is lying now beneath the mould;
But the Shepherd who waits at the golden gates
Has gathered him into the fold.
Is lying now beneath the mould;
But the Shepherd who waits at the golden gates
Has gathered him into the fold.
W. H. Schneider.
O Barrow! well may'st thou deplore
The kindly heart that beats no more—
The life that now is ended.
He was thy friend—a friend indeed,
He proved it in the hour of need,
For none went unbefriended.
The kindly heart that beats no more—
The life that now is ended.
He was thy friend—a friend indeed,
He proved it in the hour of need,
For none went unbefriended.
His death has come like a cruel blow
To many a cottage home, I know,
For the poor they held him dear;
And many eyes with tears are dim,
As faltering voices speak of him
They truly did revere.
To many a cottage home, I know,
For the poor they held him dear;
And many eyes with tears are dim,
As faltering voices speak of him
They truly did revere.
