O Hark unto the Sounding Bell!

O hark un­to the sound­ing bell

What doth each stroke of toll­ing tell?

’Tis news to each at­tent­ive ear

Some one is fit­ted for the bier.

Since death is li­censed here to rage

Without re­spect to any age;

The hoa­ry head

and youth in bloom

Depart to their eter­nal home.

Death with an un­con­trol­lèd force

Will take his way and have his course;

Infectious air and pes­ti­lence

Are not re­pulsed by man’s de­fense.

They who had thought the world their own

Are with the mean­est class cut down;

Both king and prin­ces have to die.

And lay their pow’rs and hon­ors by.

This is our just re­ward in­deed

What can we say

what can we plead?

Were we not warned

and warned again?

But all we heard

we heard in vain.

But now we feel

we learn to fear

God’s threat­ened pun­ish­ments are here:

What can we do

but plead and pray

That God may turn His wrath away?