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My tender Jesus, who didst deign to print Thy sacred face upon the cloth with which Veronica dried the sweat from off Thy brows; print in my soul deep, I pray Thee, the lasting memory of Thy bitter pains.

My Jesus, oft have I sinned, and oft by sin beat Thee to the ground beneath the Cross. Help me to use the efficacious means of grace, that I may never fall again.

My Jesus, who didst comfort the pious women of Jerusalem, who wept to see Thee bruised and torn; comfort my soul with Thy tender