Page:The seven great hymns of the mediaeval church - 1902.djvu/99

Rh

What can e'er that woe reemble

Where even Death and Nature tremble

As the riing throngs aemble!

Vain, my oul, is all concealing; For the Book is brought, revealing Every deed and thought and feeling.

On His throne the Judge is eated, And our ins are loud repeated, And to each is vengeance meted.

Wretched me! How gain a hearing, Where the righteous falter, fearing, At the pomp of His appearing?