Author: Charles Wesley
1 AND 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, Unpierced by human thought, The dreary regions of the dead, Where all things are forgot?
2 Soon as from earth I go, What will become of me? Eternal happiness or woe Must then my portion be; Waked by the trumpet’s sound, I from my grave shall rise, And see the Judge with glory crowned, And see the flaming skies.
3 How shall I leave my tomb? With triumph or regret? A fearful or a joyful doom, A curse or blessing meet? Will angel-bands convey Their brother to the bar? Or devils drag my soul away, To meet its sentence there?
4 Who can resolve the doubt That tears my anxious breast? Shall I be with the damned cast out, Or numbered with the blest? I must from God be driven, Or with my Saviour dwell; Must come at his command to heaven, Or else-depart to hell.
5 O thou that wouldst not have One wretched sinner die, Who died’st thyself; my soul to save From endless misery! Show me the way to shun Thy dreadful wrath severe, That when thou comest on thy throne I may with joy appear.
6 Thou art thyself the Way; Thyself in me reveal; So shall I spend my life’s short day Obedient to thy will; So shall I love my God, Because he first loved me, And praise thee in thy bright abode, To all eternity.