God saw you were getting tired,

And a cure was not to be,

So he put his arms around you,

And whispered, "Come To Me",

With tearful eyes we watched you,

And saw you pass away,

Although we loved you dearly,

We could not make you stay,

A golden heart stopped beating,

Hard working hands are at rest,

God broke our hearts, to prove,

He only takes the best.

Author Unknown

I have dedicated this page in loving memory of my Grandfather,
William E. Wythe
August 26, 1923 to December 6, 1998.

The song playing is "The Old Rugged Cross"