Where are the dead? In heaven or hell,
Their disembodied spirits dwell;
Their buried forms in bonds of clay,
Reserved until the judgment day.
Who were the dead? The sons of time
In every age, and state, and clime;
Renown'd, dishonour'd, or forgot,
The place that knew them, knows them not.
Where are the living? on the ground,
Where prayer is heard, and mercy found;
Where, in the period of a span,
The mortal makes the immortal man.
Who are the living? They whose breath
Draws every moment nigh to death;
Of bliss or woe the eternal heirs;
O what an awful choice is theirs!
Then timely warn'd, may we begin
To follow Christ, and flee from sin;
Daily grow up in Him our Head,
Lord of the living and the dead.
Sacred Poems and Hymns