Death, 'tis a melancholy day, To those who have no God: When the poor soul is forced away, To seek her last abode. In vain to heav'n she lifts her eyes; But guilt, a heavy chain, Still drags her downward from the skies, To darkness, fire and pain. Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell! Let stubborn sinners fear; You must be driv'n from earth, and dwell Alone for ever there.