That the shroud is sewed, and the grave is dug,
For the lost by moderate drink;
And the banded are loath to strike,
They have friends on the other side,
And therefore "Hell hath enlarged herself"
And opened her mouth so wide

The strong and the brave are lost,
Do we keep the tender and fair?
Does the demon who strikes down fathers and sons,
All the daughters and sisters spare?
Bar cellar saloon
Cellar, saloon and bar,--
Oh! who will preach a new crusade,
Or join in this holy war?

With garments for sorrow torn,--
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat by a new made grave,
Bewailing over the dead
Weep! weep! weep!
How many will weep in vain?
How many will rise in a holy cause,
That the slayer may be slain?




COMFORT YE, COMFORT YE MY PEOPLE