The Stone House

Oh how you beckoned My heart to your door, Among the maple leaves And hydrangea trees Or was it the shine upon your floors? Yet deep into, the blackened night Slaves once ran, to save their lives, relieving their pain and get some rest, A railroad stop To catch their breath. Your steadfast spirit Of sadder days, when people stayed for Freedom's sake, Yet today, I find your gracious past, An honorable place for those to rest. And I a lowly traveler too, Will find such comfort From a different view ... And sit among the maple trees Or smell a hydrangea And feel the breeze. Then I'll pray a bit before I leave and thank the Lord for every Being That hung a light for those to see Among the maple leaves And hydrangea trees.