Page:TheParadiseOfTheChristianSoul.djvu/528

 Choose aught,  like  that  untoward race, —

Barabbas, Lord,  for  thee!

Hail Mary.

Jesus, along  thy  tearful  road

Of sorrows,  with  thy  weary load,

How didst  thou  toil  and strain!

Oh, may  I bear  my  cross  like thee,

And thus  the  fruit  of  this  fair Tree

With joy  at  length  obtain!

Our Father.

Jesus, on  that  most  shameful day,

How were  thy  garments stripp’d away,

Thy holy  Limbs  laid  bare!

Oh, may  no  works  nor  ways unclean

Despoil me  of  that  modest mein

Thy servants,  Lord,  should wear!

Hail Mary.

Jesu, what  direst  agony

Was thine  upon  that  bitter Tree

With healing  virtues  rife!

Oh, may  I count  all  things but loss,

And glory  only  in  the  Cross, The sinner’s  Tree  of  Life!

Hail Mary.

Jesu, that  sacred  Name  of thine,

Thrice written  by  a race  malign, A joyful omen  gave;

Jesus of  Nazareth,  Saviour dear,

Salvation comes  from  thee, oh, hear,

And when  thou  hearest, save!

Hail Mary.

Jesu, thy  Father  thou  hast pray’d

For those  who  all  thy  love repaid

With this  dread  cup  of woes;

Teach me  to  conquer,  Lord, like thee,

By patience  and  benignity, The thwarting  of  my  foes!

Hail Mary.

Jesus, O Fount  of  all  relief,

How mercifully  to  the  thief

Thou didst  his  sins  forgive!

Give me,  like  his,  a contrite heart,

That I too,  when  I hence  depart,

In Paradise  my  live!

Hail Mary.

Jesus, who  dying  didst  commend

Thy Mother  to  thy  well-loved friend,

To be  a mutual  stay;

Vouchsafe, in  trouble  and  in care,