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.