Fear no more the heat of the sun Nor the furious winter's rain Nor the furious winter's rages Thou thy worthly task hast done Come out, come, and take my wages Golden lads and girls All must, as chimney-sweepers, come to dust Fear no more the frown of the great That cast your tyrant's stroke Care no more to clothe and knit To thee the reed is as the oak The sceptre-learning physic Must all follow this and come to dust Fear no more the lightning flash Nor the old dreaded thunderstorm Fear not slander, censure, rash Thou hast finished joy and mourn O lovers young, O lovers, Must consign to thee and come to dust Fear not slander, censure, rash Thou hast finished joy and mourn No exorciser humbly Nor no witchcraft charmly Ghosts unlaid forbear thee Nothing ill come near thee Quiet home, summation land Renowned be thy grave *