Little Poplar Log House On The Hill G

Now kind friends I want to tell you
Of our little country home
It is made of poplar logs upon the hill
That's where father died and left us
When we all were very young
But our mother kept us settled on the hill

When our days work on the farm was done
She'd would gather us around
She would have us get down on our little knees
She would pray for God to keep us
Through the night until next day
In our little old poplar log house on the hill
Our father died a good man
Which we all would like to do
And I’m going there to see him some old day
When I get through with my singing
Lay my guitar by my side
For I want to play in heaven when I die
(hhmmm)