Their breasts are filled with gladness,

Their mouths are tuned to praise,

What time, now safe for ever,

On former sins they gaze:
The fouler was the error,
The sadder was the fall,
The ampler are the praises
Of Him who pardon'd all.
Their one and only anthem,

The fulness of His love,
Who gives instead of torment
Eternal joys above;
Instead of torment, glory;

Instead of death, that life
Wherewith your happy country,
True Israelites, is rife.

care,

Brief life is here our portion,
Brief sorrow, short-lived
The life that knows no ending,
The tearless life, is there.

O happy retribution!

Short toil, eternal rest,

For mortals and for sinners

A mansion with the blest!

That we should look, poor wand'rers,
To have our home on high!
That worms should seek for dwellings
Beyond the starry sky!

To all one happy guerdon

Of one celestial grace;

For all, for all, who mourn their fall,
Is one eternal place;
And martyrdom hath roses
Upon that heavenly ground,
And white and virgin lilies

For virgin-souls abound.
There grief is turn'd to pleasure,
Such pleasure as below
No human voice can utter,

No human heart can know;
And after fleshly scandal,

And after this world's night,
And after storm and whirlwind,
Is calm, and joy, and light.
And now we fight the battle,
But then shall wear the crown
Of full and everlasting

And passionless renown;
And now we watch and struggle,
And now we live in hope,

And Sion, in her anguish,

With Babyion must cope; But He whom now we trust in

Shall ther be seen and known And they that know and see Hir Shall have Him for their own. The miserable pleasures

Of the body shall decay; The bland and flattering struggles Of the flesh shall pass away, And none shall there be jealous, And none shall there contend; Fraud, clamor, guile-what ay î All ill, all ill shall end! And there is David's Fountain, And life in fullest glow, And there the light is golden, And milk and honey flow; The light that hatn no evening, The health that hath no sore, The life that hath no ending, But lasteth evermore.

There Jesus shall embrace us, There Jesus be embraced,That spirit's food and sunshine Whence earthly love is chased. Amidst the happy chorus.

A place, however low, Shall show Him us, and showing, Shall satiate evermo. By hope we struggle onward, While here we must be fed By milk, as tender infants,

But there by Living Bread, The night was full of terror,

The morn is bright with gladness: The Cross becomes our harbor,

And we triumph after sadness, And Jesus to His true ones

Brings trophies fair to see,
And Jesus shall be loved, and
Beheld in Galilee;

Beheld, when morn shall waken,
And shadows shall decay,
And each true-hearted servant

Shall shine as doth the day;
And every ear shall hear it,-

Behold thy King's array, Behold thy God in beauty,

The Law hath past away!

Yes! God my King and Portion,

Dear fountain of refreshment

In fulness of His grace,

We then shall see for ever,
And worship face to face.
Then Jacob into Israel,

From earthlier self estranged, And Leah into Rachel,

For ever shall be changed: Then all the halls of Sion

For aye shall be complete, And, in the Land of Beauty, All things of beauty meet.

For thee, oh dear dear Country!
Mine eyes
their vigils keep;
For very love, beholding

Thy happy name, they weep:
The mention of thy glory

Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,
And love, and life, and rest.
O one, O onely Mansion!

O Paradise of Joy!
Where tears are ever banish'd,

And smiles have no alloy;
Beside thy living waters

All plants are, great and small,
The cedar of the forest,

The hyssop of the wall:
With jaspers glow thy bulwarks;
Thy streets with emeralds blaze;
The sardius and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays:
Thine ageless walls ere bonded
With amethyst unpriced:
Thy Saints build up its fabric,
And the corner-stone is Christ.
The Cross is all thy splendor,
The Crucified thy praise:
His laud and benediction

Thy ransom'd people raise:
Jesus, the Gem of Beauty,

True God and Man, they sing: The never-failing Garden,

The ever-golden Ring:

The Door, the Pledge, the Husband,

The Guardian of his Court: The Day-star of Salvation,

The Porter and the Port.

Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!

Thou hast no time, bright day!

To pilgrims far away! Upon the Rock of Ages

They raise thy holy tower: Thine is the victor's laurel,

And thine the golden dower Thou feel'st in mystic rapture,

O Bride that know'st no guile, The Prince's sweetest kisses, The Prince's loveliest smile; Unfading lilies, bracelets

Of living pearl thine own;
The Lamb is ever near thee,

The Bridegroom thine alone;
The Crown is He to guerdon,
The Buckler to protect,
And He Himself the Mansion
And He the Architect.
The only art thou needest,
Thanksgiving for thy lot:
The only joy thou seekest,

The Life where Death is not: And all thine endless leisure

In sweetest accents sings, The ill that was thy merit,The wealth that is thy King's!

Jerusalem the golden,

With milk and honey blest, Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice oppress'd: I know not, oh I know not, What social joys are there; What radiancy of glory,

What light beyond compare! And when I fain would sing them

My spirit fails and faints; And vainly would it image

The assembly of the Saints. They stand, those halls of Sion, Conjubilant with song, And bright with many an angel,

And all the martyr throng: The Prince is ever in them;

The daylight is serene; The pastures of the Blessed

Are deck'd in glorious sheen. There is the Throne of David,—

And there, from care released, The song of them that triumph, The shout of them that feast;

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!

I ask not for my merit:

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?

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!