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Rex tremendæ majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis,
Salve me, fons pietatis.
Recordare, Jesu pie,
Quod sum causa tuæ viæ ;
Ne me perdas illa die.
Quærens me sedisti lassus,
Redemisti crucem passus;
Tantus labor non sit cassus.
Juste Judex ultionis,
Donum fac remissionis
Ante diem rationis.
Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus,
Supplicanti parce Deus.
Qui Mariam absolvisti,
Ët latronem exaudisti,
Mihi quoque spem dedisti.
Preces meæ non sunt digna,
Sed tu bonus fac benigne,
Ne perenni cremer igne.
Inter oves locum præsta,
Et ab hædis me sequestra.
Statuens in parte dextra.
Confutatis maledictis,
Flammis acribus addictis,
Voca me cum benedictis.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis:
Gere curam mei finis.

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Lacrymosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla.
Judicandus homo reus,
Huic ergo parce Deus.
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem.

TUNE – DR. DYKES'S “ Dies IRÆ."

35 — LOI HE COMES. THE English hymn that supplies in the Protestant world the place of the “ Dies Iræ," is the composite hymn written by Cennick and C. Wesley. TO! He comes with clouds descending,

Once for favoured sinners slain;
Thousand thousand saints attending
Swell the triumph of His train:

Hallelujah!
Jesus comes, and comes to reign.
Every eye shall then behold Him,

Robed in dreadful majesty;
Those who set at nought and sold Him,
Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,

Deeply wailing,
Shall the true Messiah see.
Every island, sea, and mountain,

Heaven and earth shall flee away:
All who hate Him must, confounded,
Hear the summons of that day :--

Come to judgment,
Come to judgment, come away!
Now redemption, long expected,

See, in solemn pomp, appear;
All His saints, by man rejected,

Now shall meet Him in the air:

Hallelujah!
See the day of God appear.
Yea, Amen; let all adore Thee,

High on Thine eternal throne :
Saviour, take the power and glory,
Make Thy righteous sentence known.

O come quickly,
Claim the kingdom for Thine own.

TUNE — “ HELMSLEY," OR "ST. THOMAS." There are many forms of this hymn, but the above is as popular as any other.

V. - Litanies.

36— WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED

WITH WOE. DEAN MIlman's poem, on Christ's sympathy for human sorrows, was written for the sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. It is based upon the narrative (in the Gospel for that day) of Christ's miracle at Nain. As a Litany, in Lent, and at burials, the hymn is largely used. The refrain was originally written,“ Gracious Son of Mary, hear 1"

VHEN our heads are bowed with woe,

When our bitter tears o'erflow,
When we mourn the lost, the dear,
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear!
Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn,
Thou our mortal griefs hast borne,
Thou hast shed the human tear;
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear!

When the solemn death-bell tolls
For our own departing souls,
When our final doom is near,
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear !
Thou hast bowed the dying head,
Thou the blood of life hast shed,
Thou hast filled a mortal bier ;
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear !
When the heart is sad within
With the thought of all its sin;
When the spirit shrinks with fear ;
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear !
Thou the shame, the grief, hast known
Though the sins were not Thine own,
Thou hast deigned their load to bear;
Jesu, Son of Mary, hear!

TUNE — “REDHEAD, No. 47."

37 -SAVIOUR, WHEN IN DUST TO THEE.
This hymn, written by Sir Robert Grant, at one time
Governor of Bombay under the East India Company,
has received the hall-mark of helpful usefulness in all
parts of the English-speaking world.
CAVIOUR, when in dust to Thee

Low we bow the adoring knee;
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our weeping eyes;
O ! by all Thy pains and woe,
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from Thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany.

By Thy helpless infant years,
By Thy life of want and tears,
By Thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,
By the dread mysterious hour
Of the insulting tempter's power;
Turn, O turn a favouring eye,
Hear our solemn litany.
By the sacred grief that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept;
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode;
By the anguished sigh that told
Treachery lurked within Thy fold;
From Thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn litany.
By Thine hour of dire despair,
By Thine agony of prayer;
By the cross, the nail, the thorn,
Piercing spear and torturing scorn;
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O’er the dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn litany.
By Thy deep expiring groan;
By the sad sepulchral stone;
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God;
O! from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn litany.

TUNE - "MISERERE” OR “TICHFIELD."

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