The flow'rs that beautified the field,

That looked tender and fresh,

When touched by sickle, it will die;

It fails and withers off.

This example is fit for us

According to God’s word;

Let young and old take heed and know

That they are but like grass.

Put not your trust on fleeting breath,

Call not your times your own;

Around, we see sickle of death.

Cut down thousands of souls.

Those who are spared until this day

Soon, life will also end;

Prepare, be wise Before the time

The death angel will come.

The grass, when dead, will wake no more;

Die, thou, that thou may live;

What, if death were the door that leads

To everlasting pain.

O Lord, help us answer Thy call,

Let us depart from sin;

And when we fall down like the grass,

Let our souls come to Thee.