When I’m close to chill Jordan,
Old and grey and feeble,
Prepared to cross beyond the rivers
And ready to kiss the sky;
May nations mirth.
May the sands retain my vestige.
Rocks, my engraftment.
Memories, never forgetting my name.
Neighbours and friends, never forgetting my smile.
And memorials raised for me.
When all is well and done,
Giving God the glory and purpose fulfilled;
May I be a leechlike paint
On the parchment of people’s hearts,
And having a castle in the hearts of men.
THE BRIDGE HUB 