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The Dies Iræ.
83
12.
O let Thine own ſoft bowels pay
Thyſelf, and ſo diſcharge that day!
If Sin can ſigh, Love can forgive,
O, ſay the word, my ſoul ſhall live!
13.
Thoſe mercies which Thy Mary found,
Or who Thy croſs confeſs'd and crowned,
Hope tells my heart the ſame loves be
Still alive, and ſtill for me.
14.
Though both my prayers and tears combine,
Both worthleſs are, for they are mine;
But Thou Thy bounteous ſelf ſtill be,
And ſhow Thou art by ſaving me.
15.
O when Thy laſt frown ſhall proclaim
The flocks of goats to folds of flame,
And all Thy loſt ſheep found ſhall be,
Let "Come ye bleſſed" then call me!
