I sing a song which doth belong to all the human race,
Concerning death, which steals the breath, and blasts the comely face;
Come listen all unto my call, which I do make today
For you must die as well as I, and pass from hence away.
No human power can stop the hour, wherein a mortal dies;
A Caesar may be great today, yet death will close his eyes:
Though some do strive and do arrive to riches and renown,
Enjoying health and swim in wealth, yet death will bring them down.
Though beauty grace your comely face, with roses white and red,
A dying fall will spoil it all, for Absalom is dead:
Though you acquire the best attire, appearing fine and fair,
Yet death will come into the room, and strip you naked there.
The princes high and beggars die, and mingle with dust,
The rich, the brave, the negro slave, the wicked and the just:
Therefore prepare to meet thy God, before it be too late.
Or else you'll weep, lament and cry, lost in a ruined state.