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| DAY of wrath, that day whose knelling | |
| Gives to flame this earthly dwelling; | |
| Psalm and Sibyl thus foretelling. | |
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| Oh, what agony of trembling, | |
| When the judge mankind assembling, | 5 |
| Probeth all beyond dissembling. | |
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| Pealing wondrous through the regions, | |
| Shall the trumpet force obedience, | |
| And the graves yield up their legions. | |
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| Startled death and nature sicken, | 10 |
| Thus to see the creature quicken, | |
| Waiting judgment terror-stricken. | |
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| Open, then, with all recorded, | |
| Stands the book from whence awarded | |
| Doom shall pass with deed accorded. | 15 |
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| When the judge is throned in session, | |
| All things hid shall find confession, | |
| Unavenged be no transgression. | |
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| Wretch, what then shall be my pleading? | |
| Who my patron interceding? | 20 |
| Scarce the just securely speeding. | |
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| Thou, O king of awful splendour, | |
| Saving grace dost freely render; | |
| Save me, fount of pity tender. | |
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| Think, ’twas I, my lost condition, | 25 |
| Caused, O pitying Lord, thy mission; | |
| Spare my soul that day’s perdition. | |
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| Seeking me, thy footstep hasted; | |
| Me to save, the cross was tasted, | |
| Be not toil so mighty wasted. | 30 |
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| Righteous judge of retribution, | |
| Grant the gift of absolution | |
| Ere the day of restitution. | |
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| Me my culprit heart accuses; | |
| Inmost guilt my face suffuses; | 35 |
| Heal, O Lord, thy suppliant’s bruises. | |
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| Thou who Mary’s sin hast shriven, | |
| Thou who broughtst the thief to heaven, | |
| Hope to me hast also given. | |
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| Nothing worth is mine endeavour, | 40 |
| Yet, in ruth, my soul deliver | |
| From the flame that burns for ever. | |
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| With thy sheep, thy chosen, place me, | |
| Severed from the goats embrace me; | |
| On thy right-hand, ransomed, place me. | 45 |
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| When the reprobate confounded | |
| Lie with wrathful fire surrounded, | |
| May my call to bliss be sounded. | |
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| Crushed to dust and prostrate bending, | |
| All my heart contrition rending; | 50 |
| I implore thee, guard my ending. | |
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| Oh, that awful day of mourning, | |
| When, from earthly dust returning, | |
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| Guilty man shall bide his sentence; | |
| Spare him, God, for his repentance. | 55 |
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| Jesus, Lord, thy mercy lending, | |
| Grant them rest, thy rest unending. | |
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