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Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound,
Mine ears attend the cry,
Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.
Where you must shortly lie,
Where you must shortly lie,
Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.

"Princes, this clay must be your bed,
In spite of all your tow'rs;
The tall, the wise, the rev'rend head,
Must lie as low as ours."
Must lie as low as ours.
Must lie as low as ours.
The tall, the wise, the rev'rend head,
Must lie as low as ours.

Great God! is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?
Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepared no more!
And yet prepared no more!
And yet prepared no more!
Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepared no more!