The day of Christ; the last, the dreadful day; When thou and I, and all the world, shall come Before His _judgment_-seat, to bear their doom For ever and for ever; and when they Who loved not God, far, far from Him away Shall go;--but whither banished? and with whom?-- And they who loved Him shall be welcomed home To God, and Christ, and Heaven, and Heaven’s array, Angels and saints made perfect--may the scene Of that dread day be always present here-- Here in my heart! That every day between, Which brings my passage to the goal more near, May find me fitter, by His love made clean, Before His throne of justice to appear. _Bishop Mant._ Then, all Thy saints assembled, Thou shalt _judge_ Bad men and angels; they, arraigned, shall sink Beneath Thy sentence: Hell, her numbers full, Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell, And after all their tribulations long, See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. Then Thou Thy regal sceptre shalt lay by, For regal sceptre thee no more shall need, God shall be All in All. _Milton._ The world is grown old, and her pleasures are past; The world is grown old, and her form may not last; The world is grown old, and trembles for fear, For sorrows abound, and _judgment_ is near! The sun in the heaven is languid and pale; And feeble and few are the fruits of the vale; And the hearts of the nations fail them for fear, For the world is grown old, and _judgment_ is near! The king on his throne, the bride in her bower, The children of pleasure all feel the sad hour; The roses are faded, and tasteless the cheer; For the world is grown old, and _judgment_ is near! The world is grown old, but should we complain Who have tried her, and know that her promise is vain; Our heart is in heaven, our home is not here, And we look for our crown when _judgment_ is near. _Bishop Heber._ From Adam to his youngest heir, Not one shall ’scape that muster-roll; Each, as if he alone were there, Shall stand, and win, or lose his soul: These from the Judge’s presence, go Down into everlasting woe; Vengeance hath barred the gates of hell-- The scenes within no tongue can tell.