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Hymns of the Eastern Church

tr. Neale, 1862

7. S. Theodore of the Studium

Canon for Apocreos · Ode I

τὴν ἡμέραν τὴν φρικτήν.

That fearful day, that day of speechless dread,
When Thou shalt come to judge the quick and dead——
   I shudder to foresee,
   O God! what then shall be!

When Thou shalt come, angelic legions round,
With thousand thousands, and with trumpet sound;
   Christ, grant me in the air
   With saints to meet Thee there!

Weep, O my soul, ere that great hour and day,
When God shall shine in manifest array,
   Thy sin, that thou may’st be
   In that strict judgment free!

The terror!—hell-fire fierce and unsufficed:
The bitter worm: the gnashing teeth:—O Christ,
   Forgive, remit, protect;
   And set me with the elect!

That I may hear the blessed voice that calls
The righteous to the joy of heavenly halls:
   And, King of Heaven, may reach
   The realm that passeth speech!

Enter Thou not in judgment with each deed,
Nor each intent and thought in strictness read:
   Forgive, and save me then,
   O Thou That lovest men!

Thee, One in Three blest Persons! Lord o’er all!
Essence of essence, Power of power, we call:
   Save us, O Father, Son,
   And Spirit, ever one!

Ode III

Ὁ Κύριος ἔρχεται.

God comes;—and who shall stand before His fear?
Who bide His Presence, when He draweth near?
   My soul, my soul, prepare
   To kneel before Him there!

Haste,—weep,—be reconciled to Him before
The fearful judgment knocketh at the door:
   Where, in the Judge’s eyes,
   All bare and naked lies.

Have mercy, Lord, have mercy, Lord, I cry,
When with Thine angels Thou appear’st on high:
   And man a doom inherits,
   According to his merits.

How can I bear Thy fearful anger, Lord?
I, that so often have transgressed Thy word?
   But put my sins away,
   And spare me in that day!

O miserable soul, return, lament,
Ere earthly converse end, and life be spent:
   Ere, time for sorrow o’er,
   The Bridegroom close the door!

Yea, I have sinned, as no man sinned beside:
With more than human guilt my soul is dyed:
   But spare, and save me here,
   Before that day appear!

Three Persons in One Essence uncreate,
On Whom, both Three and One, our praises wait,
   Give everlasting light
   To them that sing Thy might!

Ode IV

ἐφέστηκεν ἡ ἡμέρα.

The Day is near, the Judgment is at hand,
Awake, my soul, awake, and ready stand!
Where chiefs shall go with them that filled the throne,
Where rich and poor the same tribunal own;
   And every thought and deed
   Shall find its righteous meed.

There with the sheep the shepherd of the fold
Shall stand together; there the young and old;
Master and slave one doom shall undergo;
Widow and maiden one tribunal know.
   Oh woe, oh woe, to them
   Whom lawless lives condemn!

That Judgment-seat, impartial in decree,
Accepts no bribe, admits no subtilty:
No orator persuasion may exert,
No perjured witness wrong to right convert:
   But all things, hid in night,
   Shall then be dragged to light.

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.

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 pray,
   Regardful of that day;
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 to Thee!

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

Χαριστήριον ᾠδήν.

A song, a song of gladness!
 A song of thanks and praise!
The horn of our salvation
 Hath God vouchsafed to raise!
A monarch, true and faithful,
 And glorious in her might,
To champion Christ’s own quarrel,
 And Orthodoxy’s right!

Now manifest is glory:
 Now grace and virtue shine:
Now joys the Church regaining
 Her ornaments divine:
And girds them on in gladness
 Of meet and fair array,
After long months of struggle,
 Long years of disarray.

Now cries the blood for vengeance,
 By persecutors poured,
Of them that died defending
 The likeness of the Lord:
The likeness, as a mortal
 That He vouchsaf’d to take,
Long years ago, in Bethlem,
 Incarnate for our sake.

Awake, O Church, and triumph!
 Exult, each realm and land!
And open let the houses,
 The ascetic houses stand!
And let the holy virgins
 With joy and song take in
Their relics and their icons,
 Who died this day to win!

Assemble ye together
 So joyous and so bold,
The ascetic troops, and pen them
 Once more within the fold!
If strength again he gather,¹
 Again the foe shall fall:
If counsel he shall counsel,
 Our God shall scatter ail.

The Lord, the Lord hath triumph’d!
 Let all the world rejoice!
Hush’d is the turmoil, silent
 His servants’ tearful voice:
And the One Faith, the True Faith,
 Goes forth from East to West,
Enfolding, in its beauty,
 The earth as with a vest.

They rise, the sleepless watchmen
 Upon the Church’s wall;
With yearning supplication
 On God the Lord they call:
And He, though long time silent,
 Bow’d down a gracious ear,
His people’s earnest crying
 And long complaint to hear.

Sing, sing for joy each desert!
 Exult, each realm of earth!
Ye mountains, drop down sweetness!
 Ye hillocks, leap for mirth!
For Christ the Word, bestowing
 His blessed peace on men,
In Faith’s most holy union
 Hath knit His Church again.

The God of vengeance rises:
 And Christ attacks the foe,
And makes His servants mighty
 The wicked to o’erthrow:
And now Thy condescension
 In boldness may we hymn,
And now in peace and safety
 Thy sacred Image limn.

O Lord of loving kindness,
 How wondrous are Thy ways!
What tongue of man suffices
 Thy gentleness to praise?
Because of Thy dear Image
 Men dared Thy Saints to kill,
Yet didst Thou not consume them,
 But bar’st their insults still.

Thou who hast fixed unshaken
 Thy Church’s mighty frame,
So that hell-gates shall never
 Prevail against the same;—
Bestow upon Thy people
 Thy peace, that we may bring
One voice, one hymn, one spirit,
 To glorify our King!

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