By that plot of soil reflecting
As the blue of sky projecting

Images of deep dark chambers
Images of rock and ridges

Going lower there's a sinking
Lower, lower there's a sinking

Stripping all that touch surrendered
Dust and clay no coy pretender

Have we not performed our dances
Did we not sing 'Rock of Ages'

'Rock of Ages' in the choirs
Dance of dances to the lyre

Did we not consume the pages
Pray and prostrate to the sages

Why this silence in the narthex
Why these whispers weeping silence

From the ridges of the mountain
Can't they blow a kiss from heaven

Show me, show me spirits walking
Hear me, hear me spirits talking

When the last of time is over
And they cover me with clover

Kindly lower me to heaven
Kindly take this cup unproven

Can't we reckon with you hangman
Bribe you hangman with our mammon

Is there not just one objection
Can we not appeal this verdict

By that plot of soil reflecting
You accepting, you rejecting

As the blue of sky projecting
As the dove flies upward truly
Shall I soar or ever be.