An Original Poem In Honor of
William Buckminster Lindsay, Jr.
Composed in Memorial at the time of his death
Marion David Lindsay
Two more hands are gently folded
On a loving Father's breast
Two more feet have ceased to wander
Through life's stormy wilderness
One more head has ceased its aching
One more heart has ceased to beat
One more soul. has left its casket
Gone to heaven's safe retreat.
One dear face no more appearing
There the breakfast table's spread
One dear voice no more will answer
When the kind good night is said.
And we listen fondly listen
For a sound we cannot hear
For the music of his footsteps
Never more will greet our ears.
Oft we think we hear our father
Coming through the open door
Then we tearfully remember
Father will come home no more.
All his earthly labors over
Gone with care no more oppressed
Where the wicked cease from troubling
And the weary are at rest.
While we shad our tears of anguish
In our lonely cottage home
Angels tune anew their harpstrings
Sing and shout, "Be glad He's Come"
Hear the blissful greeting ringing
Angels shout it loud and long
Welcome, welcome loving Father
Welcome to our happy throng.
Father still we hope to meet you
In the brighter realms above
And with heavenly songs to greet you
There all will be in peace and love.