Come wayward Souls,
That wander through the darkness,
There is a light for the lost and the meek.
Sorrow and fear,
Are easily forgotten,
When you submit to the soil of the earth.

Grow, tiny seed,
you are gone to the tree.
Rise, 'til your leaves fill the sky,
until your sighs fill the air in the night.
Lift your mighty limbs,
and give praise
to the fire.