"Me whom ye pierced with curse and jeer,
Whose mortal thirst ye quenched with gall?
I died for your immortal cheer:
What profit have I of you all?
"Liars, traducers, proud in thought,
Misers! no offering of psalms
Or prayer or thanks ye ever brought—
No deed of penitence or alms."
Michael and Paul at that dread speech,
With all the myriads of Heaven,