I Sit Here Thinking of You

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[I Sit Here Thinking, Will, of You (aka Deacon Foster's Pew)]  

I sit here thinking, Will, of you
And of merry days gone by,
the good old church where oft we sang
together, you and I.
But thoughts of one rehearsal night
will constantly arise
till I can read my title clear
to mansions in the skies.
I'm thinking of the rainy night
the rest had hurried home
and we in Deacon Foster's pew
were sitting all alone.
You were a seeker then, dear Will,
but not of things above.
The length, the depth, the breadth, the height
of everlasting love.
And I was on the anxious seat,
uncertain how to move,
within thine arms of love embraced,
thy constancy to prove.
And oh, the promise you made,
you were my own dear Will.
What peaceful hours I once enjoyed,
how sweet their memory still.
Oh what sweet words of love you spoke
and kissed away the tears

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