And I am I born to die. To lay this body down.
And must my trembling spirit fly, Into a world unknown?
A land of deepest shade. Un-pierced by human thought;
The dreary regions of the dead, Where all things are forgot!
Soon as from earth I go, What will become of me?
Eternal happiness of woe Must then my portion be.
Waked by the trumpet sound, I from my grave shall rise;
And see the Judge with glory crowned, And see the flaming skies!
Original Sacred Harp. Denson Rev. 1971
(Search Roud index at VWML) Take Six