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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.)

FOR THE BAPTIST.

last and greatest herald of heaven's King,

Girt with rough skins, hies to the desert wild,

Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,

Which he than man more harmless found, and mild:

His food was locasts, and what young doth spring,

With honey that from virgin hills distilled; Parched body, hollow eyes, sole uncouth thing

Made him appear long since from earth exiled.

There burst he forth; "All ye, whose hopes rely

On God, with me amidst these deserts

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Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus, Cuneta 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.

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 favilla.
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 parchèd 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!

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MORAL AND DIDACTIC POETRY.

LIFE.

LIFE.

THE World's a bubble, and the Life of Man LIFE! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;

Less than a span:

In his conception wretched, from the womb, And when, or how, or where we met I own to me's a secret yet.

So to the tomb;

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