Let me not enter in the land of woe;
Let me not realms of outer darkness know!
Nor from the wedding-feast reject Thou me,
For my soiled vest of immortality;

Bound hand and foot, and cast

In anguish that shall last!

When Thou, the nations ranged on either side,

The righteous from the sinners shalt divide, Then give me to be found amongst Thy sheep,

Then from the goats Thy trembling servant keep :

That I may hear the voice

That bids Thy Saints rejoice!

When righteous inquisition shall be made, And the books opened, and the thrones arrayed,

My soul, what plea to shield thee canst thou

know,

Who hast no fruit of righteousness to show, No holy deeds to bring

TO CHRIST the LORD and King?

I hear the rich man's wail and bitter cry,
Out of the torments of eternity;
I know, beholding that devouring flame,
My guilt and condemnation are the same;
And spare me, LORD, I say,

In the great Judgment Day!

The WORD and SPIRIT, with the FATHER
One,

One Light and emanation of One Sun,
The WORD by generation, we adore,
The SPIRIT by procession, evermore;
And with creation raise

The thankful hymn of praise.

I

ODE IX.

Ὁ Κύριος ἔρχεται.

The LORD draws nigh, the righteous Throne's Assessor,

The just to save, to punish the Transgressor:

Weep we, and mourn, and

Regardful of that day;

pray,

When all the secrets of all hearts shall be

Lit with the blaze of full eternity.

Clouds and thick darkness o'er the Mount assembling,

Moses beheld the Eternal's glory, trembling: And yet he might but see

GOD's feebler Majesty.

And I-I needs must view His fullest

Face:

O spare me, LORD! O take me to Thy grace!

David of old beheld, in speechless terror, The session of the Judge-the doom of

error:

And what have I to plead

For mercy in my need?

Nothing save this: O grant me yet to be, Ere that day come, renewed and true toThee!

Here, fires of deep damnation roar and glitter:

The worm is deathless, and the cup is bitter : There, day that hath no morrow,

And joy that hath no sorrow:

And who so blest that he shall fly the abyss, Rais'd up to GOD's Right Hand, and speechless bliss!

My soul with many an act of sin is wounded: With mortal weakness is my frame surrounded:

My life is well nigh o'er:

The Judge is at the door :

How wilt thou, miserable spirit, fare,

What time He sends His summons through

the air?

ORTHODOXY SUNDAY.

The

The first Sunday in Lent is kept in memory; primarily, of the final triumph of the Church over the Iconoclasts in 842; and, incidentally, of her victory over all other heresies. It has a kind of commination appropriate to itself alone. following Canon is ascribed to S. Theodore of the Studium, though Baronius has thought that it cannot be his, because it implies that peace was restored to the Church, whereas that hymnographer died while the persecution still continued. Very possibly, however, it was written on the temporary victory of the Church, which did occur in the time of S. Theodore; and then, in 842, may have been lengthened and adapted to the then state of things, perhaps by Naucratius, the favorite disciple of S. Theodore. It is,

perhaps, the most spirited of all the Canons,