In me rest and will rest the living all,
The black-cloaked walker brings more each day,
For life is no bar to my call.
In land most desolate or in grandest hall,
Ever the Reaper of Lives walks in his unseen way,
In me rest and will rest the living all.
Whether they be man or woman, rich or poor, all will fall,
As the wielder of the ethereal scythe takes more each day,
For life is no bar to my call.
Young and old, great or small, all may hear my call,
The spectral guide comes to take them from where they lay,
In me rest and will rest the living all.
From drowning or sickness, great age or great battle, still they fall,
And day after day more rise up and more fall down,
In me rest and will rest the living all,
For life is no bar to my call.
