Will the angels play their harps for me?: D.White/Hirsch


I was passing by the churchyard in the city
and I saw a beggar old and grey.
With his hands outstretched he asked the folks for pity,
and it made me sad to hear him say:

Oh I wonder, yes I wonder, will the angels way up yonder
will the angels play their harps for me?
For my heart is growing dreary and my feet are growing weary.
Will the angels play their haprs for me?

Oh a million miles I've travelled, and a million sights I've seen
and I'm ready for the glory soon to be.
Oh I wonder, yes I wonder, will the angels way up yonder
will the angels play their harps for me?

Oh I wonder, yes I wonder, will the angels way up yonder
will the angels play their harps for me?

Oh my heart is growing dreary, and my feet are growing weary
will the angels play their harps for me?

Oh a million miles I've travelled, and a million sights I've seen
and I'm ready for the glory soon to be.
Oh I wonder yes, I wonder, will the angels way up yonder
will the angels play their harps for me?

Will the angels play their harps for me?