That fear­ful day, that day of speech­less dread,
When Thou shalt come to judge the quick and dead—
I shud­der to fore­see,
O God! what then shall be!

When Thou shalt come, an­gel­ic le­gions round,
With thou­sand thou­sands, and with trum­pet sound,
Christ, grant me in the air
With saints to meet Thee there!

Weep, O my soul, ere that great hour and day,
When God shall shine in ma­ni­fest ar­ray,
Thy sin, that thou may’st be
In that strict judg­ment free!

The ter­ror! Hell-fire fierce and un­suf­ficed:
The bit­ter worm: the gnash­ing teeth—O Christ,
Forgive, re­mit, pro­tect;
And set me with the elect!

That I may hear the bless­èd voice that calls
The right­eous to the joy of hea­ven­ly halls.
And, King of Hea­ven, may reach
The realm that pass­eth speech!

Enter Thou not in judg­ment with each deed,
Nor each in­tent and thought in strict­ness read:
Forgive, and save me then,
O Thou That lov­est men!

Thee, One in Three blest Per­sons! Lord o’er all!
Essence of es­sence, Power of pow­er we call:
Save us, O Fa­ther, Son,
And Spi­rit, ev­er one!