Day of Wrath (Dillon)

The day of wrath

that dread­ful day

Shall the whole world in ash­es lay

As Da­vid and the Si­byls say.

What hor­ror will in­vade the mind

When the strict Judge

who would be kind

Shall have few ven­ial faults to find.

The last loud trum­pet’s wond­rous sound

Shall through the rend­ing tombs re­bound

And wake the na­tions under ground.

Nature and death shall with sur­prise

Behold the pale of­fend­er rise

And view the Judge with con­scious eyes.

Then shall

with uni­vers­al dread

The sac­red

mys­tic book be read

To try the liv­ing and the dead.

The Judge as­cends His aw­ful throne;

He makes each sec­ret sin be known

And all with shame con­fess their own.

O then

what in­terest shall I make

To save my last im­port­ant stake

When the most just have cause to quake!

Thou mighty

form­id­able King!

Thou mer­cy’s un­ex­haust­ed spring

Some com­fort­able pi­ty bring!

Forget not what my ran­som cost;

Nor let my dear-bought soul be lost.

In storms of guil­ty ter­rors tossed.

Thou who for me didst feel such pain

Whose pre­cious blood the cross did stain

Let not these ago­nies be vain!

Thou whom av­eng­ing pow­ers ob­ey

Cancel my debt

too great to pay

Before the sad ac­count­ing day!

Surrounded with am­az­ing fears

Whose load my soul with ang­uish bears

I sigh

I weep! ac­cept my tears!

Thou who wert moved with Ma­ry’s grief

And by ab­solv­ing of the thief

Hast giv’n me hope

now give re­lief!

Reject not my un­worthy pray­er;

Preserve me from the dan­ger­ous snare

Which death and gap­ing hell pre­pare.

Give my exal­ted soul a place

Among Thy chos­en right-hand race

The sons of God and heirs of grace.

From that in­sa­ti­able ab­yss

Where flames de­vour and ser­pents hiss

Promote me to Thy seat of bliss.

Prostrate my con­trite heart I rend

My God

my fa­ther

and my friend:

Do not for­sake me in my end!

Well may they curse their se­cond breath

Who rise to a re­viv­ing death:

Let guil­ty man com­pas­sion find!