Where Are the Dead?

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;

Renowned

dis­hon­ored

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 th’im­mor­tal man.

Who are the liv­ing? They whose breath

Draws ev­ery moment nigh to death;

Of bliss or woe th’eter­nal heirs;

O what an aw­ful choice is theirs!

Then time­ly warned

may we be­gin

To fol­low Christ

and flee from sin

And daily grow in Him our Head

Lord of the liv­ing and the dead.

Who were the dead? The sons of time

In ev­ery age

and state

and clime;

Renowned

dis­hon­ored

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 th’im­mor­tal man.

Who are the liv­ing? They whose breath

Draws ev­ery moment nigh to death;

Of bliss or woe th’eter­nal heirs;

O what an aw­ful choice is theirs!

Then time­ly warned

may we be­gin

To fol­low Christ

and flee from sin

And daily grow in Him our Head

Lord of the liv­ing and the dead.