tell the bells to please stop ringing;
halt the horns so cease they cry;
forbade the watchmen to go on singing,
'from the lake, from the hills, from the sky,
all is well, safely rest, god is nigh.'
so i say and so i say to stop!
it is madness to confuse the young with lambs:
bloody, butchered, and murdered for naught,
but 'the stars gleaming ray softly send,
'to thy hands we our souls, lord, commend.'