Little White Church

Small, and hidden among the hills

We go to receive the joy


Painted white by our own hands

Laboring together in industrial joy


In the spring, when the Easter is,

We celebrate with songs of joy


When summer's heat makes us sweat amidst the sermon

We look up and think of nature's joy


When the dying of autumn bring us pain

We stare through the windows at the azure sky's joy


As winter settles in with cold and cruelty,

We take heart nevertheless and praise in joy


Though people taunt or rail against us

Here we receive courage and strength and joy


Death, o unxeplainable sorrow

Will not steal from us here amazing joy


And when white walls fall and earths dissolve

We will hold on with endless joy


America, you once knew

And now you've lost this God-given joy

This poem is about: 
My country


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