of The Holy Cross.
137
Patris
Sapientia Veritas Divina.
At
Vigils
Circled
by His enemies.
By
His own forsaken,
Christ,
the Lord, at Matin Hour
For
our sakes was taken;
Very
Wisdom, Very Truth,
Monarch
long-expected.
In
the garden by the folk,
Bound,
reviled, rejected!
At
Prime.
See
them at the Hour of Prime,
Unto
Pilate leading.
Him
‘gainst Whom with lying tongues,
Witnesses
are pleading ;
There
with spitting and with shame,
Ill
for good they render.
Marring
that bright Face which gives
Heaven
eternal splendour !
At
Terce.
"
Crucify Him ! " for His love
Is
their bitter payment.
When
They lead Him forth at Terce,
Clad
in purple raiment ;
Lo!
a crown of woven thorns
On
His Head He weareth,
And
The Cross to Calvary
On
His shoulders beareth.
At Sext.
Him
unto the Cross at Sext
Dastard
hands are nailing
Numbered
with transgresors vile.
And
defamed with railing ;
Gall
and Vinegar in jest
To
His thirst they proffer ;
To
The Atoning Lamb of God,
Such
the taunts they offer.
At
None.
'
Twas at None His holy life
The
Lord Jesus ended ;
Cried
" Eloi ! " and His Soul
Unto
God commended.
Then
His Side a soldier pierce
With
a spear divideth.
Nature
trembles, and the Sun
All
his splendour hideth.
At Vespers.
From
the Cross at Vespertide
Foes
His Corpse are haling ;
He
within His Soul Divine
All
His Glory veiling.
So
for us in agony
Life's
Physician dieth.
And
on earth His glorious Crown
Marred
and sullied lieth.
At
Compline.
At
the silent Compline-tide,
Holy
hands array Him ;
And,
O hope of life to come !
In
the grave they lay Him.
Myrrh
and Spices have they brought ;
Scripture
is completed ;
Deep
for ever be that Death
In
my memory seated !
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