The following is an excellent translation of a Latin poem, which has received the enthusiastic encomiums of Goethe, Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter Scott, and other distinguished men. It is said that Dr. Johnson always wept in reading the tenth stanza. The Earl of Roscommon expired with the seventeenth verse upon his lips. The original was written by a monk, in the thirteenth century. We find the translation in the Newark Daily Advertiser.
DAY of wrath, that day of burning
All shall melt, to ashes turning,
As foretold by seers discerning.
O what fear shall it engender,
When the Judge shall come in splendour,
Strict to mark, and just to render !
Trumpet scatt'ring sounds of wonder,
Rending sepulchres asunder,
Shall resistless summons thunder.
All aghast then Death shall shiver,.
And great Nature's frame shall quiver,
When the graves their dead deliver.
Book where ev'ry act's recorded,
All events all time afforded,
Shall be brought, and dooms awarded.
When shall sit the Judge unerring,
He'll unfold all here occurring,
No just vengeance then deferring.
What shall I say that time pending?
Ask what Advocate's befriending,
When the just man needs defending?
King Almighty and All-knowing,
Grace to sinners freely showing,
Save me, Fount of good o'erflowing.
Think, O Jesus, for what reason
Thou endur'dst earth's spite and treason,
Nor me lose in that dread season.
Seeking me thy worn feet hasted,
On the cross thy soul death tasted;
Let such labour not be wasted.
Righteous Judge of retribution,
Grant me perfect absolution,
Ere that day of execution.
Culprit-like, I-heart all broken,
On my cheek shame's crimson token-
Plead the pard'ning word be spoken.
Thou who Mary gav'st remission, Heardst the dying thief's petition, Cheer'dst with hope my lost condition.
Though my prayers do nothing merit,
What is needful, thou confer it-
Lest I endless fire inherit.
Mid the sheep a place decide me,
And from goats on left divide me,
Standing on the right beside thee.
When th' accurs'd away are driven,
To eternal burnings given,
Call me with the bless'd to heaven."
I beseech thee, prostrate lying,
Heart as ashes contrite, sighing,
Care for me when I am dying.
On that awful day of wailing,
Human destinies unveiling,
When man rising, stands before thee,
Spare the culprit, God of glory!
WE'VE FOUND THE ROCK
WE'VE found the rock, the trav'llers criedO halle, hallelujah!
The stone that all the prophets tried
O halle, hallelujah !
Come, children, drink the balmy dew
'Twas Christ that shed his blood for youO halle, hallelujah!
This costly mixture cures the soul
Which sin and guilt hath made so foul;
O that you would believe in God,
And wash in Christ's most precious blood!
O hearken, children, Christ is come,
The bride is ready, let us run;
I'm glad I ever saw the day
That we might meet to praise and pray.
There's glory, glory, in my soul-
Come, mourner, feel the current roll;
Welcome, dear friends-it's felt to-night,
It shines around with dazzling light.
And in this light we'll soar away,
Where there's no night but open day;
Ọ children, children, bear the cross,
And count the world below as dross.
We'll bear the cross, and wear the crown,
And by our Father's side sit down;
His grace will feed our hungry souls,
While love divine eternal rolls.
His fiery chariots make their way,
To welcome us to endless day;
There glitt'ring millions we shall join,
To praise the Prince of David's line.
THE CHRISTIAN'S FAREWELL
ADIEU! adieu! I'm dying now,
A death-like chill is on my brow;
My hands are cold, my heart beats fast,
Soon, soon, I'll reach that heavenly rest.
CHORUS. This world is not my home,
This world is not my home;
This world is all a wilderness,
This world is not my home.
Sisters, why weep ye? dry your tears;
Death to me now has lost its fears;
I long to gain th' eternal shore,
Where there is joy forever more.
Sisters, when spring returns in bloom,
O place my flowers upon my tomb;
And then, at vesper hours so sweet,
Our souls in unison will meet.
Brother, I'm dying: let me go
From this vain world of guilt and woe;
Come nearer to my side, loved one-
My eyes grow dim, my race is run.
Leave thy loud sobs, O dry thy tears,
Dispel, dispel, those gloomy fears;
I'm going to join the host on high,
Where pleasures never, never die.
Mother and father, nearer come,
I can but speak in whisper-tone;
O let me kiss your cheeks once more,
Then say Farewell forever more.
Bright angels now are hov'ring round,
They do my humble bed surround:
And is this death? O glorious boon!
Thank Heaven that we may die so soon.
Brother and sisters, nearer come,
Father and mother, one by one;
O let me gaze on all once more,
Then spread my wings for Canaan's shore.
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