19 lines
328 B
Markdown
19 lines
328 B
Markdown
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{{% verse %}}
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And am I born to die?
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To lay this body down!
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And must my trembling spirit fly
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into a world unknown?
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A land of deepest shade;
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Unpierced by human thought.
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The dreary regions of the dead,
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Where all things are forgot.
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Soon as from earth I go,
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What will become of me?
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— Charles Wesley, 1753
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{{% /verse %}}
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