Death’s Plea

What will, Oh Lord, become of me,
Your humble servant Death?
When you at last fulfill your plan
What then will I have left?

Well do I know how late it was
I entered in your plan
For I was born from sin and pride
And from the fall of man.

Yet Lord, I still have served you well
Through many ages past
It was with me you saved the world
And vanquished sin at last.

Yet still, oh Lord, they hate and fear
And curse my very name.
For through their sins they come to grief
And give to me the blame.

But you alone I serve, oh Lord
As you do know so well;
It is through me they come to you,
If yet, through me, to Hell.

So what, oh Lord, becomes of me?
Oh Lord, I ask you why,
If all your servants come to life,
That Death alone should die?