(Archie Campbell)

Rock of Ages clef for me let me hide myself in Thee
It was a stylish congregation you could see they had been around
And they had the biggest pipe organ of any church in town
But over in the amen corner of that church sat Ol' Brother Ire
And every Sunday he insisted on singing in the choir
His voice was cracked and broken age had touched his vocal chords
And nearly every Sunday he would get behind and miss the words
Well, the choir got so flustered the church was told, then fine
Brother Ire must quit his singing or the choir is going to resign
So the pastor appointed a committee I think it was three or four
They got in their big fine car drove up to Ire's door
They found the choirs great trouble sitting there in a big armed chair
The summers golden sum beam lay up on his snow-white hair
Said York, "We're here with the Vestry's approbation
To discuss a little mater that affects the congregation
Now it seems your voice is interfering with the choir
So if you will just lay out are you listening, Brother Ire?
The old man raised his head a sign he did hear
And on his cheek the three men caught the glitter of a tear
His feeble hands pushed back the locks as white as silky snow
And he answered the committee in a voice both soft and low
"I wonder if beyond the tide that is breaking at my feet
In that far off heavenly temple where my Master I shall meet
I wonder if when I try to sing the songs of God up higher
Will they kick me out up there for singing in Heavens Choir?"
A science filled the room the old man bowed his head
The committee went on back to town, but Brother Ire was dead.
The choir missed him for awhile, but it soon forgot
A few church goers watched the door, but the old man entered not
From far away his voice is sweet now and he sings his hearts desires
Where there are no committees and no fashionable choirs
Rock of age's clef for me let me hide myself in Thee