Hymnal: The Christian Psalmist
Date: 1850
Compiler: Silas W Leonard and A D Fillmore
Publisher/Printer: S W Leonard
First Line: Hark from the tombs a doleful sound
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Composer:
Tune: Fiducia
Hymn Number: <no hymn number given>
Page Number: 402, click to see hymnal pages
LyicsHark from the tombs a doleful sound;
My ears, attend the cry-
Princes, this clay must be your bed,
In spite of all your towers;
"Ye living men come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.
The tall, the wise, the reverend head,
Must lie as low as ours!"
Great God! is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?
Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepare no more!
Grant us the power of quickening grace,
To fit our souls to fly;
Then, when we drop this dying flesh,
We'll rise above the sky.
Beneath our feet and o'er our heads,
Are equal warnings given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead
Above us is the heaven!
Death rides on every passing breeze,
And lurks in every flower;
Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour.
Turn, mortal, turn!-thy danger know
Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead!
Turn, Christian, turn!-thy soul apply
To truths which loudly tell,
That they who underneath thee lie
Shall live for heaven-or hell!