With a dark and sober reminiscence,
Of folks past, now a glaring absence,
Countless scores interred by a scourge.
True, man shall lie Someday in dust,
Bring me not to the earth amiss,
But lay me down in a sweet sleep in peace,
Countless scores interred by a scourge.
And clad me with the glory of the sun in blue,
Let me have life and life that's true,
And count me not in the deaths by a scourge.