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.