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Jim was his name,
The old man said,
As he sat with his cane
On his lap, he said
He was old, that Summer's day.
No one believed him,
He was young they said;
But the very next day,
At his funeral they came,
To pay their respects, to
A lonely old man; he was liked
By all, the children too,
But he died a lonely old man.
They carved his name by the
Epitaph; "Here lies a man,
Jim his name, who died
This day, The 10th of June,
On a bench in the park,
Where he used to sit;
God bless his soul,
And let him live,
Forever in the land of God.
And let him forgive us
For all our unkindness,
For he was, we admit,
A nice old man."
And so there he lay,
By the village church,
His name on the bench,
Will keep him known;
Oh, Why hadn't we loved him all the more?
© G. 1969
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