Imágenes de páginas

Thou too may'st sing
To God thy King,

But oh! we may not now

This joyful strain begin:
Our heads we first must bow
In sorrow for our sin.

Alleluia !
We may not sing
To God our King,
Alleluia !

O Lord, our hearts incline,

To worship only Thee !
We then that choir may join,
And ours that strain may be:

Alleluia !
We then may sing
To God our King,
Alleluia !



[ocr errors]

(Quod lex adumbravit vetus. No. 60.)
This solemn fast the Fathers saw
Forth shadowed in the ancient law,
And Jesus, when on earth he came,
Taught us to celebrate the same.

Thou, the heart-searching God, must know

How vile and weak we be:
But, Lord, do thou thy mercy show,

And draw us back to Thee.

Great is our sin, and great our shame,

But, oh! do thou forgive : Help, for the glory of thy name,

And let poor sinners live.

Oh! may our outward abstinence

Have such effect within,
That we may rescue every sense

stain of sin.

Blest Three in One, with grief sincere,

To Thee we humbly pray, That fruits of mercy may appear

To bless this fasting-day.



(Fando quis audivit, Dei. No. 63.)

To whom is our report made known?
Of mercies which the Lord hath shown,

such wonders scarce can faith believe, And scarce the mind such love conceive.

The Son of God, for sinful man
In purpose slain, since time began,
His body now in deed supplies
As our atoning sacrifice.
But wherefore, Saviour, dost Thou lie
In such a mournful agony?
And why those bloody drops, that show
Thy soul's deep anguish, as they flow.
Oh ! 'tis the effect of grief within
The horror of unpardoned sin:
For, standing in the sinner's room,
Thou tremblest at the sinner's doom.

Doth the dread cup deter thy soul ?
But oh! unless thou drink the whole,
For us poor sinners it must flow
A draught of never-ending woe.
But heavenly love is ne'er dismayed,
And God may not be disobeyed ;
And lo! he yields Him to the hour
Of darkness, and to hell's dark power.
And now to blows, rebukes and scorn,
The purple robe, the crown of thorn,
E’en to the cross behold Him given,
A victim to the wrath of heaven,
The Father, who the Victim gave,
The Son who died, mankind to save,
The Holy Ghost, we all adore,
One God, both now and evermore.


The Father, who the Victim gave, ,
The Son, who died mankind to save;
The Holy Ghost, we all adore,
One God, both now and evermore.


(Vexilla regis prodeunt. No. 66.) The royal banner is unfurled,

The cross is reared on high,
On which the Saviour of the world

Is stretched in agony.
See through his holy hands and feet

The cruel nails they drive,
Our ransom thus is made complete,

Our souls are saved alive.
And see, the spear hath pierced his side,

And shed that sacred flood,
That holy reconciling tide,

The water and the blood.
Hail! holy cross, from thee we learn

The only way to heaven;
doh, to thee


sinners turn,
nd look, and be forgiven!
ovah! we thy name adore,

In Thee we will rejoice,
And sing, till time shall be no more,

The triumphs of the Cross.


(Prone vocem, mens, canoram.

No. 67.)

Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,

Sing aloud in mournful strain
Of the sorrows most amazing,
And the agonizing pain,

Which our Saviour,
Sinless bore, for sinners slain.

He the ruthless scourge enduring,

Ransom for our sins to pay,
Sinners by his own stripes curing,
Raising those who wounded lay,

Bore our sorrows,
And removed our pains away.

He to liberty restored us

By the very bonds he bare,
And his nail-pierced limbs afford us
Each a stream of

mercy rare,

Us they fasten
To the cross, and keep us there.

When his painful life was ended,

Then the spear transfixed his side,
Blood and water thence descended,
Pouring forth a double tide:

This to cleanse us,
That to heal us, is applied.

« AnteriorContinuar »