DUST TO DUST
Earthto earth, we sadly sigh—Beloved, beloved, why didst thou die?Heaven, why untimely deathWhen so sweet are life and breath?Earth and Heaven tell us whyOur beloved have to die?Dust to dust, the elementsSwallow clay and sleeping sense.Wilt thou wake, beloved, yetTo the eyes no longer wet,To the arms that no more ache,Wilt thou, O beloved, wake?Ashes to ashes mingling,Flesh they cover, tears they wring.Beloved, beloved, the flowers I bringWither, but the ones that springO’er thy mould with promise smile“Dearest, yet a little while!”
Earthto earth, we sadly sigh—Beloved, beloved, why didst thou die?Heaven, why untimely deathWhen so sweet are life and breath?Earth and Heaven tell us whyOur beloved have to die?Dust to dust, the elementsSwallow clay and sleeping sense.Wilt thou wake, beloved, yetTo the eyes no longer wet,To the arms that no more ache,Wilt thou, O beloved, wake?Ashes to ashes mingling,Flesh they cover, tears they wring.Beloved, beloved, the flowers I bringWither, but the ones that springO’er thy mould with promise smile“Dearest, yet a little while!”
Earthto earth, we sadly sigh—Beloved, beloved, why didst thou die?Heaven, why untimely deathWhen so sweet are life and breath?Earth and Heaven tell us whyOur beloved have to die?
Earthto earth, we sadly sigh—
Beloved, beloved, why didst thou die?
Heaven, why untimely death
When so sweet are life and breath?
Earth and Heaven tell us why
Our beloved have to die?
Dust to dust, the elementsSwallow clay and sleeping sense.Wilt thou wake, beloved, yetTo the eyes no longer wet,To the arms that no more ache,Wilt thou, O beloved, wake?
Dust to dust, the elements
Swallow clay and sleeping sense.
Wilt thou wake, beloved, yet
To the eyes no longer wet,
To the arms that no more ache,
Wilt thou, O beloved, wake?
Ashes to ashes mingling,Flesh they cover, tears they wring.Beloved, beloved, the flowers I bringWither, but the ones that springO’er thy mould with promise smile“Dearest, yet a little while!”
Ashes to ashes mingling,
Flesh they cover, tears they wring.
Beloved, beloved, the flowers I bring
Wither, but the ones that spring
O’er thy mould with promise smile
“Dearest, yet a little while!”