And they who, with their Leader,

Have conquer'd in the fight,

For ever and for ever

Are clad in robes of white!

O holy, placid harp-notes
Of that eternal hymn!
O sacred, sweet refection,
And peace of Seraphim!
O thirst for ever ardent,

Yet evermore content!
O true peculiar vision

Of God cunctipotent!
Ye know the many mansions
For many a glorious name,
And divers retributions

That divers merits claim:
For midst the constellations

That deck our earthly sky, This star than that is brighter,— And so it is on high.

Jerusalem the glorious!

The glory of the Elect!
O dear and future vision

That eager hearts expect:
Even now by faith I see thee:
Even here thy walls discern :
To thee my thoughts are kindled,

And strive and pant and yearn:
Jerusalem the onely,

That look'st from heaven below, In thee is all my glory ;

In me is all my woe:
And though my body may not,
My spirit seeks thee fain,
Till flesh and earth return me

To earth and flesh again.
Oh none can tell thy bulwarks,

How gloriously they rise:
Oh none can tell thy capitals
Of beautiful device:
Thy loveliness oppresses

All human thought and heart:
And none, O Peace, O Sion,

Can sing thee as thou art.
New mansion of new people,
Whom God's own love and light
Promote, increase, make holy,
Identify, unite.

Thou City of the Angels!

Thou City of the Lord!

Whose everlasting music

Is the glorious decachord!
And there the band of Prophets
United praise ascribes,
And there the twelvefold chorus
Of Israel's ransom'd tribes:
The lily-beds of virgins,

The roses' martyr-glow,
The cohort of the Fathers
Who kept the faith below.
And there the Sole-Begotten
Is Lord in regal state;
He, Judah's mystic Lion,

He, Lamb Immaculate.

O fields that know no sorrow!
O state that fears no strife
O princely bow'rs! O land of flow'rs!
O realm and home of life!

Jerusalem, exulting

On that securest shore,

I hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, And love thee evermore!

my

merit :

I ask not for
I seek not to deny
My merit is destruction,

A child of wrath am I:
But yet with Faith I venture
And Hope upon my way;
For those perennial guerdons
I labor night and day.
The best and dearest Father

Who made me, and who saved, Bore with me in defilement,

And from defilement laved; When in His strength I struggle,

For very joy I leap, When in my sin I totter,

I weep, or try to weep; And grace, sweet grace celestial, Shall all its love display, And David's royal Fountain Purge every sin away.

O mine, my golden Sion!
O lovelier far than gold!
With laurel-girt battalions,
And safe victorious fold;
O sweet and blessed country,
Shall I ever see thy face?
O sweet and blessed country,
Shall I ever win thy grace?

I have the hope within me

To comfort and to bless!
Shall I ever win the prize itself?
Oh, tell me, tell me, Yes!

Exult, O dust and ashes!

The Lord shall be thy part; His only, His for ever,

Thou shalt be, and thou art! Exult, O dust and ashes!

The Lord shall be thy part; His only, His for ever,

Thou shalt be, and thou art!

BERNARD OF CLUNY.

(Translation of JOHN MASON NEALE.)

Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus, Cuncta stricte discussurus.

Tuba mirum spargens sonum Per sepulcra regionum, Coget omnes ante thronum.

Mors stupebit, et natura, Quum resurget creatura, Judicanti responsura.

Liber scriptus proferetur, In quo totum continetur, Unde mundus judicetur.

Judex ergo cum sedebit, Quidquid latet, apparebit : Nil inultum remanebit.

Quid sum, miser! tunc dicturus,
Quem patronum rogaturus,
Quum vix justus sit securus?
Rex tremendæ majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis,
Salva me, fons pietatis!

Recordare, Jesu pie,
Quod sum causa tuæ viæ;
Ne me perdas illâ die!

Quærens me, sedisti lassus,
Redemisti, crucem passus :
Tantus labor non sit cassus.

Juste Judex ultionis, Donum fac remissionis Ante diem rationis.

Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpâ rubet vultus meus,
Supplicanti parce, Deus!

Qui Mariam absolvisti,
Et latronem exaudisti,
Mihi quoque spem dedisti.

Preces meæ non sunt dignæ,
Sed Tu bonus fac benigne
Ne perenni cremer igne!

Inter oves locum præsta, Et ab hædis me sequestra, Statuens in parte dextrâ.

39

Confutatis maledictis, Flammis acribus addictis, Voca me cum benedictis !

Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis,
Gere curam mei finis.

Lacrymosa dies illâ!
Qua resurget ex favillâ.
Judicandus homo reus;
Huic ergo parce, Deus!

THOMAS DE CELANO.

DIES IRE.

TRANSLATION OF WILLIAM J. IRONS.

DAY of wrath! O day of mourning!
See! once more the Cross returning,
Heaven and earth in ashes burning!

Oh what fear man's bosom rendeth
When from Heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth!

Wondrous sound the Trumpet flingeth,
Through earth's sepulchres it ringeth,
All before the throne it bringeth!

Death is struck, and Nature quaking,
All creation is awaking,

To its Judge an answer making!

Lo, the Book, exactly worded!
Wherein all hath been recorded;
Thence shall judgment be awarded.

When the Judge His seat attaineth,
And each hidden deed arraigneth,
Nothing unavenged remaineth.

What shall I, frail man, be pleading,
Who for me be interceding,
When the just are mercy needing?

King of Majesty tremendous,
Who dost free salvation send us,
Fount of pity! then befriend us!

Think! kind Jesu, my salvation
Caused Thy wondrous incarnation;
Leave me not to reprobation!

Faint and weary Thou hast sought me,
On the Cross of suffering bought me,
Shall such grace be vainly brought me?

Righteous Judge of retribution,
Grant Thy gift of absolution,
Ere that reck'ning day's conclusion!
Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

Thou the sinful woman savedst,
Thou the dying thief forgavest;
And to me a hope vouchsafest!

Worthless are my prayers and sighing,
Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,
Rescue me from fires undying!

With Thy favor'd sheep, oh place me!
Nor among the goats abase me;
But to Thy right hand upraise me.

While the wicked are confounded,
Doom'd to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me! with Thy saints surrounded.

Low I kneel with heart submission;
See, like ashes, my contrition;
Help me, in my last condition!

Ah! that Day of tears and mourning!
From the dust of earth returning,
Man for judgment must prepare him;
Spare, O God, in mercy spare him!

Lord, who didst our souls redeem,
Grant a blessed Requiem! Amen.

DIES IRE.

PARAPHRASE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead;
Oh, on that day, that wrathful day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away!

DIES IRE.

On the written volume's pages
Life is shown in all its stages,—
Judgment-record of past ages!

Sits the Judge, the raised arraigning,
Darkest mysteries explaining,
Nothing unavenged remaining.

What shall I then say, unfriended,
By no advocate attended,
When the just are scarce defended?

King of majesty tremendous,
By Thy saving grace defend us,
Fount of pity, safety send us!

Holy Jesus, meek, forbearing,
For my sins the death-crown wearing,
Save me, in that day, despairing.

Worn and weary, Thou hast sought me,
By Thy cross and passion bought me,—
Spare the hope Thy labors brought me.

Righteous Judge of retribution,
Give, oh, give me absolution
Ere the day of dissolution.

As a guilty culprit groaning, Flush'd my face, my errors owning, Hear, O God, my spirit's moaning!

Thou to Mary gav'st remission, Heard'st the dying thief's petition, Bad'st me hope in my contrition.

In my prayers no grace discerning,
Yet on me Thy favor turning,
Save my soul from endless burning.

Give me, when thy sheep confiding Thou art from the goats dividing, On Thy right a place abiding!

When the wicked are confounded, And by bitter flames surrounded, Be my joyful pardon sounded.

Prostrate, all my guilt discerning, Heart as though to ashes turning, Save, oh, save me from the burning!

Day of weeping, when from ashes Man shall rise 'mid lightning-flashes, Guilty, trembling with contrition, Save him, Father, from perdition!

Lo! HE COMES, WITH CLOUDS DESCENDING!

Lo! He comes, with clouds descending! Hark! the trump of God is blown, And th' Archangel's voice attending Makes the high procession known: Sons of Adam!

Rise, and stand before your God!

Crowns and sceptres fall before Him,

Kings and conquerors own His sway; Haughtiest monarchs now adore Him, While they see His lightnings play: How triumphant

Is the world's Redeemer now!

Hear His voice, as mighty thunder
Sounding in eternal roar,
While its echo rends in sunder
Rocks and mountains, sea and shore:
Hark! His accents

Through th' unfathom'd deep resound!

"Come, Lord Jesus! Oh come quickly!" Oft has pray'd the mourning Bride: "Lo!" He answers, "I come quickly!" Who Thy coming may abide? All who loved Him, All who long'd to see His day.

Now their trials all are ended:

Now the dubious warfare's o'er; Joy no more with sorrow blended, They shall sigh and weep no more; God for ever

Wipes the tear from every eye.

Through His passion all victorious
Now they drink immortal wine;
In Emmanuel's likeness glorious
As the firmanent they shine;
Shine for ever,
With the bright and morning Star.
Shout aloud, ye ethereal choirs!
Triumph in Jehovah's praise!
Kindle all your heavenly fires,
All your palms of victory raise !
Shout His conquests,

Shout salvation to the Lamb!

In full triumph see them marching
Through the gates of massy light,
While the City walls are sparkling
With meridian glory bright;

Oh how lovely
Are the dwellings of the Lamb!