Ah! what terror is impending,
  When the Judge is seen descending,
  And each secret veil is rending!

  To the throne, the trumpet sounding,
  Through the sepulchres resounding,
  Summons all, with voice astounding.

  Death and Nature, mazed, are quaking,
  When, the grave’s long slumber breaking,
  Man to judgment is awaking.

  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, O give me absolution
  Ere the day of dissolution!

  As a guilty culprit groaning,
  Flushed my face, my errors owning,
  Hear.  O God, Thy suppliant 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 worth discerning,
  Yet on me Thy favor turning,
  Save me from that endless burning!

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

  When the wicked are rejected,
  And by bitter flames subjected,
  Call me forth with Thine elected!

  Low in supplication bending. 
  Heart as though with ashes blending;
  Cure for me when all is ending.

  When on that dread day of weeping
  Guilty man in ashes sleeping
  Wakes to his adjudication,
  Save him, God! from condemnation!

From the Latin of THOMAS A CELANO.

Translation of JOHN A. DIX. [A]

[Footnote A:  General Dix’s first translation of the “Dies Irae” was made in 1863; the revised version (given above) appeared in 1875.  Bayard Taylor wrote of the earlier one:  “I have ... heretofore sought in vain to find an adequate translation.  Those which reproduced the spirit neglected the form, and vice versa.  There can be no higher praise for yours than to say that it preserves both.”]

* * * * *

MY GOD, I LOVE THEE.

  My God, I love thee! not because
    I hope for heaven thereby;
  Nor because those who love thee not
    Must burn eternally.

  Thou, O my Jesus, thou didst me
    Upon the cross embrace! 
  For me didst bear the nails and spear,
    And manifold disgrace,