1 AND am I born to die, To lay this body down? And must my trembling spirit fly Into a world unknown? A world of darkest 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 crown’d, And see the flaming skies. 3 How shall I leave my tomb? With triumph, or regret?