Sacred Harp - Plenary

I organized a 9-11 sing after the first year and dedicated this song to Moises Rivas. I didn't know him. I read his story in the NYTimes. He was a buss boy at Windows on the World and died far from his home in Mexico. I've never forgotten his name. There's something about dying far from home that tears me up.

Plenary, page 162 of the Sacred Harp

Hark! from the tombs of doleful sound,
Mine ears, attend the cry,
Ye living men, come view the ground,
Where you must shortly lie.

“Princes, this clay must be your bed,
In spite of all your tow’rs;
The tall, the wise, the rev’rend head,
Must lie as low as ours.”

Great God! Is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?
Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepared no more!

Linda Griggs