1 Death! 'tis a melancholy day To those that have no God, When the poor soul is forc'd away To seek her last abode.
2 In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes, But guilt, a heavy chain, Still drags her downward from the skies To darkness, fire, and pain.
3 Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell, Let stubborn sinners fear, You must be driven from earth, and dwell A long for-ever there.
4 See how the pit gapes wide for you, And flashes in your face, And thou, my soul, look downwards too, And sing recovering grace.
5 He is a God of sovereign love That promis'd heaven to me, And taught my thoughts to soar above, Where happy spirits be.
6 Prepare me, Lord, for thy right-hand, Then come the joyful day, Come death, and some celestial band, To bear my soul away.