1

DIES IRE, DIES ILLA:

HYMN OF THE CHURCH, IN MEDITATION OF THE DAY OF

IVDGMENT.

I.

HEAR ST thou, my soul, what serious things

Both the Psalm and sybyll sings

Of a sure Indge, from Whose sharp ray

The World in flames shall fly away.

11.

O that fire! before whose face
Heaun and Earth shall find no place.
O those eyes! Whose angry light
Must be the day of that dread night.

O that trump! whose blast shall run
An euen round with the circling sun,
And vrge the murmuring graues to bring
Pale mankind forth to meet his King.

1 Appeared originally in Steps of 1648 (pp. 106-7), where it is headed A Hymne in Meditation of the Day of Judgement: reprinted 1652 (pp. 71-78), 1670 (pp. 191-4). Our text is that of 1652, and its engraving here is reproduced in our illustrated quarto edition. See our Essay for critical remarks on this great version of a supreme hymn, G,

IV.

Horror of Nature, Hell, and Death!

When a deep groan from beneath
Shall cry, We come, we come, and all
The caues of Night answer one call.

V.

O that Book! whose leaues so bright
Will sett the World in seuere light.
O that Iudge! Whose hand, Whose eye
None can indure; yet none can fly.

VI.

Ah then, poor soul, what wilt thou say?
And to what patron chuse to pray?
When starres themselues shall stagger; and
The most firm foot no more then stand.

VII.

But Thou giu'st leaue (dread Lord!) that we

Take shelter from Thy self, in Thee;

And with the wings of Thine Own doue

Fly to Thy scepter of soft loue.

VIII.

Dear, remember in that Day

Who was the cause Thou cam'st this way. Thy sheep was stray'd; and Thou wouldst be Euen lost Thyself in seeking me.