Wrapt in a Christless shroud
He sleeps the Christless sleep;
Above him the eternal cloud,
Beneath the fiery deep.
Laid in a Christless tomb
There bound with felon chain,
He waits the terrors of his doom,
The judgment and the pain.
O Christless shroud, how cold!
How dark, O Christless tomb!
O grief that never can grow old!
O endless, hopeless doom.
O Christless sleep, how sad!
What waking shalt thou know?
For thee no star, no dawning glad,
Only the lasting woe!
To rocks and hills in vain
Shall be the sinners’ call;
O day of wrath and death and pain
The lost soul’s funeral.
O Christless soul, awake!
Ere the last sleep begins;
O Christ, the sleepers’ slumber break
Burst Thou the bonds of sin.