1 Earth to earth and dust to dust,
Lord, we own the sentence just;
Head and tongue, and hand and heart,
All in guilt have borne their part;
Righteous is the common doom,
All must moulder in the tomb.

2 Like the seed in spring-time sown,
Like the leaves in autumn strown,
Low these goodly frames shall lie,
All our pomp and glory die;
Soon the spoiler seeks his prey,
Soon he bears us all away.

3 Yet the seed, upraised, again
Clothes with green the smiling plain;
Onward as the seasons move,
Leaves and blossoms deck the grove;
And shall we forgotten lie,
Lost forever when we die?

4 Lord, from nature's gloomy night
Turn we to the gospel's light;
Thou didst triumph o'er the grave,
Thou wilt all thy people save;
Ransomed by thy blood they rise,
Mounting victors to the skies.