| Song | The Old Sexton |
| Artist | Across Tundras |
| Album | Dark Songs of the Prairie |
| 作曲 : Traditional | |
| Nigh to a grave that was newly made, | |
| Leaned a Sexton old, on his earth worn spade, | |
| His work was done, and he paused to wait, | |
| The fun'ral train through the open gait; | |
| A relic of bygone days was he, | |
| And his locks were white as the foamy sea; | |
| And these words came from his lips so thin, | |
| "I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." | |
| "I gather them in! For man and boy, | |
| Year after year of grief and joy; | |
| I've builded the houses that lie around, | |
| In ev'ry nook of this burial ground, | |
| Mother and daughter, father and son, | |
| Come to my solitude, one by one, | |
| But come they strangers, or come they kin, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." | |
| Many are with me, but still I'm alone, | |
| I'm king of the dead - and I make my throne, | |
| On a monument slab of marble cold, | |
| Any my sceptre of rule is the spade I hold; | |
| Come they from cottage or come they from great hall, | |
| Mankind are my subjects - all, all, all! | |
| Let them loiter in pleasure, or toilfully spin, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in. | |
| "I gather them in - and their final rest | |
| Is here, down here, in the earth's dark breast! | |
| And the Sexton ceased - for the funeral train | |
| Wound mutely o'er that solemn plain; | |
| And I said to my heart of heart - when time is told, | |
| A mightier voice than that Sexton's old, | |
| Will sound o'ver the last tramp's dreadful din, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." |
| zuò qǔ : Traditional | |
| Nigh to a grave that was newly made, | |
| Leaned a Sexton old, on his earth worn spade, | |
| His work was done, and he paused to wait, | |
| The fun' ral train through the open gait | |
| A relic of bygone days was he, | |
| And his locks were white as the foamy sea | |
| And these words came from his lips so thin, | |
| " I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." | |
| " I gather them in! For man and boy, | |
| Year after year of grief and joy | |
| I' ve builded the houses that lie around, | |
| In ev' ry nook of this burial ground, | |
| Mother and daughter, father and son, | |
| Come to my solitude, one by one, | |
| But come they strangers, or come they kin, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." | |
| Many are with me, but still I' m alone, | |
| I' m king of the dead and I make my throne, | |
| On a monument slab of marble cold, | |
| Any my sceptre of rule is the spade I hold | |
| Come they from cottage or come they from great hall, | |
| Mankind are my subjects all, all, all! | |
| Let them loiter in pleasure, or toilfully spin, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in. | |
| " I gather them in and their final rest | |
| Is here, down here, in the earth' s dark breast! | |
| And the Sexton ceased for the funeral train | |
| Wound mutely o' er that solemn plain | |
| And I said to my heart of heart when time is told, | |
| A mightier voice than that Sexton' s old, | |
| Will sound o' ver the last tramp' s dreadful din, | |
| I gather them in, I gather them in, | |
| Gather, gather, gather, I gather them in." |