Attend, young friends, while I relate
The dangers you are in,
The trials that doth you await
While you remain in sin:
Altho you flourish like the rose,
While on its branches green,
Your sparkling eyes in death must close,
And never more be seen.

The princes high and beggars die,
And mingle with the dust,
The rich, the brave, the negro slave,
The wicked and the just:
Therefore prepare to meet thy God,
Before it be too late,
Or else you’ll weep, lament and cry,
Lost in a ruined state.

Recordings none