The Villagers and Death

Lyrics
The Rector's pallid neighbour at The Firs, Death, did not flurry the parishioners. Yet from a weight of superstitious fears Each tried to lengthen his own term of years. He was congratulated who combined Toughness of flesh and weakness of the mind In consequential rosiness of face. This dull and not ill-mannered populace Pulled off their caps to Death, as they slouched by, But rumoured him both atheist and spy. All vowed to outlast him (though none ever did) And hеar the earth drum on his coffin-lid. Their groans and whispеrs down the village street Soon soured his nature, which was never sweet.
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