The Sinner’s Burial

Wrapt in a Christ­less shroud

He sleeps the Christ­less sleep;

Above him

the eter­nal cloud

Beneath

the fie­ry deep.

Laid in a Christ­less tomb

There

bound with fe­lon-chain

He waits the ter­rors of his doom

The judg­ment and the pain.

O Christ­less shroud

how cold

How dark

O Christ­less tomb!

O grief that nev­er can grow old

O endless

hope­less doom!

O Christ­less sleep

how sad!

What wak­ing shalt thou know?

For thee no star

no dawn­ing glad

Only the last­ing woe!

To rocks and hills in vain

Shall be the sin­ner’s call;

O day of wrath

and death and pain

The lost soul’s fu­ner­al!

O Christ­less soul

awake

Ere thy last sleep be­gin!

O Christ

the sleep­er’s slum­bers break

Burst Thou the bands of sin!