That voice, so sweet and light, that rides on high
The winds of winged angels much in play
Do stop and listen to your song and cry
Up to the Heavenly Father they pray
Make her the trumpet call so none would stray
And now there are you calling to souls lost
Under you lie with crossed arms to decay
Above with cracked tones I sing to exhaust
My sorrows.  I touch cold, black stone your name embossed