Our folk were busy greeting, neighbors to that first camp meeting, for which they had labored so wonderfully to prepare.
At the old rock altar we all prayed, where our request to God was made, that He would bless our meeting with His presence and His power.

With holy hands to God we waved, as the sinners were a getting saved, angels were rejoicing and Old Satan, well I guess he was grieved.
There was shouting in the choir, and the preaching was filled with fire, and when the services ended nobody seemed to want to leave.

It had the air of yester-years, when people worshiped through their tears, it involved much more than any tongue could tell.
They were praising God all about, some of the sisters stood to shout, and little Charlie took himself a big ole' running spell.

Yes neighbor, forever shall I remember, that third week in September, for it has now became a special time you see.
For it is then we come together, and pray that God will send to us another, and now we all call it "The Wildwood Jubilee."

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