ON!
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! 'Tis 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!
