Awhile sit desolate.
2 Let all the people, high and low,
Rich, poor, and great and small,
Invoke, in fellowship of woe,
The Maker of them all.
3 For God hath summoned from his place,
Death, in a direr form,
To waken, warn, and scourge our race,
Than earthquakes, fire, or storm.
4 Let churches weep within their pale,