Charles Epps 1863-1903

Charles Epps 1863 - 1903 It was I, Charles Epps, The mustached mason with the triumphant trowel, The bushy browed benefactor Of my father’s farm tools. It was I who laid the cornerstone Of the Friends College There on dusty Painter Street and Philadelphia, There in the stunning summer shadows There under the blue confluence of God’s amazing mind His infinite sky of azure mercies. The smiling ladies made lunch and The whistling men formed the lines that day! We worked there, up on that hill, The hill to the east beyond dusty Painter Street, Worked there until sunset’s yawn. With rippling muscles sore And calloused hands splintered, We erected the future of this Quaker town With nails, timber and sweaty brows. My friends, you must come to Clark Cemetery sometime, And visit the shadows. We lie here quite alive! Alive amongst the perennials Awaiting as forgotten wisps of spirit, Awaiting God’s greatest gift- The body’s resurrection.