PASSING SORROW

The steeple bell is tolling
soft and slow it sadly rings,
strains of the organ wafting
a voice now sweetly sings.

Of how the Lord, He is my shepherd
He leads me down to lie,
in pastures green, He gives repose
and bids me now abide.

Oh the sadness of the moment
the dreadful sense of loss,
a loved one comes before the altar
to the meeting with the Cross.

With the Mass of Resurrection
and the words of love and hope,
comes joy to dwell within our hearts
helping all to heal and cope.

Your goodness Lord, will follow me
all my live-long days,
I will dwell within Your house Lord
with You forever stay.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
June 13, 1998