Listen to the track:
Whispers in Stone
The private residence known today as Thorn Cottage was once a non-confomist Weslyan chapel.
It was opened in 1871 and closed in 1913 probably due to its distance from the villagers.
[Verse 1]
Plain stone chapel by the Thorn estate
Wooden benches, cold in winter’s weight
Hymns in harmony, voices full and clear
No gilded altar, just the Word held dear
[Chorus]
Hymns in the walls, whispers in stone
Prayers that were spoken, now dreams of a home
From Sunday best to a fire’s warm glow
The years keep turning, but the old walls know
[Verse 2]
Hats and shawls on the pegs by the door
Boots from the fields on the scrubbed slate floor
Preacher’s voice rising, steady and true
Windows bright with the wide sky’s blue
[Chorus]
Hymns in the walls, whispers in stone
Prayers that were spoken, now dreams of a home
From Sunday best to a fire’s warm glow
The years keep turning, but the old walls know
[Verse 3]
Curtains drawn where the pulpit stood
Fireplace set in the old pine wood
Evening stillness and the lamplight’s hue
Filling the space where the sermons once grew
[Bridge]
Though the hymnbooks are gone and the benches are bare
The spirit of song lingers warm in the air
Stone remembers what the heart won’t forget
A chorus of voices that’s singing there yet
[Final Chorus]
Hymns in the walls, whispers in stone
Prayers that were spoken, now dreams of a home
From Sunday best to a fire’s warm glow
The years keep turning, but the old walls know