Lo, Everyman, who passeth on his way,
Neglectful of his destined ending day,
Until on that day Death confronted him
And suddenly his hopefulness went dim.
For all that he had long depended on—
His Strength, and Beauty, Goods and Friends—were
And nothing but Good Deeds could ease his woe
Or stead him in the dark where he must go.
But what of penitent confession and
Heart sorrow—will our Father understand
If on our last day we have grown contrite
And shown repentance—shall we see the Light?
Will not Christ’s sacrifice be our envoy
To save our souls and gain us heavenly joy?