When a gale doth wail and the day turns night

When the heavens dry up and the sun doth char

I will lay in my field, for I know they’ll pass

 

When the diggers do scurry and wild beasts a prowling

If hunters are lurking and the wicked are taunting

I will lay in my field, for I know they too will pass

 

When great men a falling and fool hardy lads a roaring

If hearts are failing and mighty arms a flailing

I will keep on a trudging my race a running

I will lay in my field, for I know my rest will come