I believe this is a song written by Thom Bishop (Now called 'Junior Burke')
Chritina died on Friday, buried her on Sunday in the Petersburg Cemetary. On a pleasant hill, where the wind is rustling still; as it breaths across the Illinois prairie.
Noone mad a sound as they laid her in the ground, thats when the saddened Reverend said to me:
"Any parting words, fore they shovel on the dirt?" Thats when I said her epitaph will be Here's the Rains to wash you, and the meadow roots to hold you tight. Here's a robe of earth and a crown of dew-- for the shining face, here's the mask of night. And dust to circle the dancin feet. And a stone for where the wonder was; lie quiet love, here's the end of pain. And the flowers to bring you back again.
Many is the night, the moonlight was bright o'er the Petersburg Cemetary.
Came a rustlin sound, that carried through the town and was sung to her to me and only me. There was no cause to fear as it Charmed my weary ear and it said "My love, your Epitah will be: "here's the Rain... (etc.)
Now I'm growin old and my trouser legs are rolled and my hands are stuffed in pockets by my side. My days are all behind and my ways are absent minded, as I search for things I've tucked away to hide. My name will soon be named and my claim will soon be claimed and I'll be lyin beside her like she was my bride. Sayin "Here's the rain to wash you.. (etc.)
I hope this helps. My appologies to Thom Bishop (Junior Burke)-- greatest songwriter that ever lived.