Always laughin' she was—havin' her joke and singin'—
Her heart the like of a fountain where joy was dancin' and springin',
And ourselves by the fire would say, “She's stretchin' her hand to sorrow—
God save the child from the trouble, the trouble that comes tomorrow!”

Always happy she was—and happy it was Death found her
In the place that she loved the best, with the arms of love around her.
And ours is the answered prayer who were askin' against her sorrow.
God saved the child from the trouble, the trouble that comes tomorrow!