The Rich Man's Soul (B)

A golden cross the rich man wears,
And little for Jesus Christ he cares.
The tongue may talk, but the Soul shall answer at judgement day,

But into the rich man's house came death,
And 'ere the sunrise stopped his breath.

Down on his mouth they laid his soul,
It cursed his body, part and whole.

They laid the soul on the rich man's breast,
"God show, where comfort it finds, and rest!"

They led the soul through murky woods,
To land and money and household goods.

They laid the soul on scales to weigh,
"If sin thou hast done, thou'rt now my prey."

But down on the scale three blood-drops fell,
And shudder'd with fear the sprites of hell.

So soon as account of its life was given,
The soul slipp'd into the gate of heaven.