There Paul stood tranquil, choosing thunderbolts, And this the thunderbolt that last he launched: "Hearken, O Felix. In the clouds of heaven, Attended by the angels of His might, The Lord Christ Jesus I behold descend. The trumpet of the resurrection sounds, And sea and land give up their wakened dead; These all to judgment hasten at His call: The books are opened and the witness found; All the least thoughts of men, with all their words And deeds, all their dumb motions of desire, Their purposes, and their endeavors all, Are written in the record of those books. They blaze out in the light of that great day. Like lightning, fixed from fleeting, on the sky; Deem not one guilty can his guilt conceal. A parting of the evil and the good; The good at His right hand He bids sit down, The awful Judge, omnipotent as just; The evil, frowning, bids from Him depart. Swift, them departing--who would not know God, And not obey the gospel of His Son-- He, taking vengeance, follows in their flight With flaming fire and dreadful punishment, Destruction everlasting from His face, From the Lord's face, and glory of His power!" The shudder that had slept uneasy sleep Within the breast of Felix lulling it, Woke startled at these minatory words Spoken as with the voice of God by Paul. That couchant shudder from its ambush broke, And openly ran wantoning over all The members of the terror-stricken man. But the cry clamoring in him for escape, To ease the anguish of his mortal fear, Felix found strength to modulate to this, In forced tones uttered, and with failing breath: "Go thy way this time, Paul; at season fit Hereafter I will call for thee again." The soldier duly led his prisoner out, And Felix was full easily rid of Paul; Of Paul, but of Paul's haunting presence not The image of that orator in chains, The solemn echo of the words he spoke, Swam before Felix, sounded in his ears, So real, the real world round him seemed less real.