Who shall weep when the righteous die?
Who shall mourn when the good depart?
When the soul of the godly away shall fly,
Who shall lay the loss to heart?

He has gone into peace — he has laid him down
To sleep till the dawn of a brighter day;
And he shall wake on that holy morn,
When sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

But ye who worship in sin and shame
Your idol gods, whate'er they be;
Who scoff in your pride at your Maker's name,
By the pebbly stream and the shady tree—

Hope in your mountains, and hope in your streams,
Bow down in their worship and loudly pray;
Trust in your strength and believe in your dreams,
But the wind shall carry them all away.

There's one who drank at a purer fountain,
One who was washed in a purer flood:
He shall inherit a holier mountain,
He shall worship a holier God.

But the sinner shall utterly fail and die—
Whelmed in the waves of a troubled sea;
And God from his throne of light on high
Shall say, there is no peace for thee.