MARTHA

SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;

Toll the bell! toll the bell!

Her weary hands their labor cease;

Good night, poor Martha,— sleep in peace!

Toll the bell!

Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;

Toll the bell! toll the bell!

For many a year has Martha said,

“I'm old and poor,— would I were dead!”

Toll the bell!

Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;

Toll the bell! toll the bell!

She'll bring no more, by day or night,

Her basket full of linen white.

Toll the bell!

Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;

Toll the bell! toll the bell!

‘ T is fitting she should lie below

A pure white sheet of drifted snow.

Toll the bell!

Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;

Toll the bell! toll the bell!

Sleep, Martha, sleep, to wake in light,

Where all the robes are stainless white.

Toll the bell!