Classic Poem

Upon that cruel season when our Lord
Shall come to judge the world eternally;
When to no man shall anything afford
Peace in the heart, how pure soe'er it be;
When heaven shall break asunder at His word,
With a great trembling of the earth and sea;
When even the just shall fear the dreadful sword, —
The wicked crying, " Where shall I cover me?" —
When no one angel in His presence stands
That shall not be affrighted of that wrath,
Except the Virgin Lady, she our guide; —
How shall I then escape, whom sin commands?
Out and alas on me! There is no path,
If in her prayers I be not justified.