In single file they enter in
And join the ones before,
Who came a little earlier
And passed through this same door.
Upon a stand not far away
Where everyone will look,
Each visitor will find a place
Where each can sign the book.
Sometimes this book’s for wedding days
When life is full of cheer;
Sometimes this book’s for funerals
When we lose someone dear.
In either case the message still
Is basically the same:
Above each address there is found
A friend who signed his name.
When time has passed, this day is o’er,
And most is soon forgot,
The signatures of those who come
Will long still mean a lot.
T. R. Hobson
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