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DIES IRE.

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FROM THE LATIN OF THOMAS OF CELANO.

AY of vengeance, without | King of majesty tremendous,

morrow,

By thy saving grace defend us,
Earth shall end in flame Fount of pity, safety send us!

and sorrow,

As from saint and seer we

borrow.

Ah! what terror is im

pending

When the Judge is seen
descending,

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.

And each secret veil is Righteous Judge of retribution,

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?

Give, oh, give me absolution
Ere the day of dissolution.

As a guilty culprit groaning,
Flushed my face, my errors owning,
Hear, O God, my spirit's moaning!

Thou to Mary gavst remission,
Heardst the dying thief's petition,
Badst me hope in my contrition.

In my prayers no grace discerning,
Yet, on me thy favor turning,
Save my soul from endless burning.

Give me, when thy sheep confiding
Thou art from the goats dividing,
On thy right a place abiding.

When the wicked are confounded
And by bitter flames surrounded,
Be my joyful pardon sounded.

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CEDMON.

EDMON is considered the earliest of the English poets. He was a man sprung from the people, and at one time in his life was a mere cowherd. He was, however, addressed one night by a stranger, as he thought, in his sleep, and asked to sing a song. He replied that he could not, when the stranger urged that he could, and that he could sing the "Creation." Cædmon then, wondering at himself, began to sing most beautiful verses. He soon afterward awoke, and went immediately to the reeve of Whitby, who, wise and good man that he was, took him to the abbey and told the wondrous story to the abbess Hilda. He recounted the last night's adventure and repeated the verses, which at once obtained the admiration of the persons present. They then explained to him other parts of Holy Scripture, whereupon he went home and produced a beautiful poem. At the request of the abbess he became a monk, and continued to write poems founded on sacred history.

There is a striking resemblance between Cadmon's account of "The Fall of Man," etc., and portions of Milton's "Paradise Lost." Conybeare, in his Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, says: "The pride, rebellion and punishment of Satan and his princes have a resemblance to Milton so remarkable that most of this portion might be almost literally translated by a cento i

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His thought about his heart, Hot was without him His dire punishment, Then spake he the words: "This narrow place is most unlike That other that we ere knew, High in heaven's kingdom, Which my Master bestowed on me, Though we it, for the All-powerful, May not possess,

Must cede our realm.

Yet hath he not done rightly,
That he hath struck us down
To the fiery abyss
Of the hot hell,

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About me lie

Of hard iron
Forged with heat,
Huge gratings,

With which me God

Hath fastened by the neck.

Thus perceive I that he knoweth my mind.

And that knew also

The Lord of hosts

That should us, through Adam,
Evil befall

About the realm of heaven,

Where I had power of my hands.

But we now suffer chastisement in hell, Which is darkness and heat

Grim, bottomless;

God hath us himself

Swept into these swart mists,

Thus he cannot us accuse of any sin
That we against him in the land framed evil ;
Yet hath he deprived us of the light,
Cast us into the greatest of all torments:
We may not for this execute vengeance,
Reward him with aught of hostility,
Because he hath bereft us of the light.
He hath now devised a world
Where he hath wrought man
After his own likeness,

With whom he will repeople

The kingdom of heaven with pure souls;
Therefore must we strive zealously

That we on Adam, if we ever may,

And likewise on his offspring, our wrongs

repair,

Corrupt him there in his will,

If we may it in any way devise.

Now I have no confidence farther in this

bright state,

That which he seems long destined to enjoy, That bliss with his angel's power.

We cannot that ever obtain,

That we the mighty God's mind weaken; Let us avert it now from the children of men, That heavenly kingdom now we may not have it;

Let us so do that they forfeit his favor, That they pervert that which he with his word commanded.

Then with them will he be wroth in mind,
Will cast them from his favor;

Then shall they seek this hell,
And these grim depths;

Then may we them have to ourselves as vassals

The children of men in this fast durance. Begin we now about the warfare to consult:

If to any follower I

Princely treasures

Gave of old,

While we in that good realm.
Happy sat,

And in our seats had sway,

Then me he never, at time more precious,

Could with recompense

My gift repay;

If in return for it he would

(Any of my followers)

Be my supporter,

So that up from hence he
Forth might

Pass through these barriers;

And had power with him,
That he with wings
Might fly-

Revolve in cloud

To where stand wrought
Adam and Eve,
On earth's kingdom,
With weal encircled;

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