Death Song

There lies a cold corpse upon the sands
Down by the rolling sea ;
Close up the eyes and straighten the hands,
As a Christian man's should be.

Bury it deep, for the good of my soul,
Six feet below the ground ;
Let the sexton come and the death-bell toll,
And good men stand around.

Lay it among the churchyard stones,
Where the priest hath blessed the clay ;
I cannot leave the unburied bones,
And I fain would go my way.