Then Mary's Son, in heavenly pomp's array,
Shall all his glory to the world display;
The faithful twelve with saintly vesture graced,
Friends of his cross around his throne are placed;
The impartial judge the book of fate shall scan,
The unerring records of the deeds of man.
The book is opened! mark the anxious fear
That calls the sigh and starts the bitter tear;
The good shall hear a blessed sentence read,
All mourning passes--all their griefs are fled.
No more their souls with racking pains are riven,
Their Lord admits them to the peace of heaven;
The sinner there, with guilty crime oppressed,
Bears on his brow the fears of hell confess'd.
Behold him now--his guilty looks--I see
His God condemns, and mercy's God is He;
No joy for him, for him no heaven appears
To bid him welcome from a vale of tears.
Hark! Jesu's voice with awful terrors swell,
It shakes even heaven, it shakes the nether hell:
"Away ye cursed from my sight, retire
Down to the depths of hell's eternal fire,
Down to the realms of endless pain and night,
Ye fiends accursed, from my angry sight
Depart! for heaven with saintly inmates pure
No crime can harbour or can sin endure,
Away! away where fiends infernal dwell,
Down to your home and taste the pains of hell.
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