Steal away, steal away, steal away to Jesus.
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Steal away, steal away home.
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I ain't got long to stay here.
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I was walkin in Savannah past a church decayed and dim
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And there slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn.
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A sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew
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Till I found myself environed in a little Negro pew.
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Down front sat a young couple nearly wild.
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On the altar was a coffin, in the coffin was a child.
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Rose a sad old Negro preacher at a little wooden desk
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With a manner grandly awkward and a countenance grotesque.
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And he said "Now don't be weepin for this pretty bit of clay,
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For the little boy who lived there has done gone and run away
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And he's doin very finely and he appreciates your love
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But his sure nuff Father want him in the large house above
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Now He didn't give you that baby for a hundred thousand miles.
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He just think you need some sunshine and He lent him for awhile
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And He let you love and keep him till your hearts were bigger grown
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And those silver tears you're sheddin are just interest on the loan.
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So my poor dejected mourners let your hearts with Jesus rest
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And don't go criticizin the one that knows the best.
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He gave us many comforts, He has the right to take away.
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To the Lord be praise and glory, now and ever let us pray.
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My Lord calls me, He calls me by the thunder. The trumpet sounds
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within my soul.
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I ain't got long to stay here. I'm gonna steal away home.
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Steal Away
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| Kenny Price |
