53 Thou didst save the woman pleading, And the thief beside Thee bleeding, Grant me hope, like pity needing. Vows and prayers can save me never; From the fire that burns for ever. With Thy sheep, Good Shepherd, guide me, On Thy right hand guard and hide me. When the doom'd depart, descending Call me with Thy saints ascending. Hear me ! contrite, lowly lying : Woful day! when thunder-shaken, Then O God! to be forgiven ! THOMAS OF CELANO, Thirteenth century. 53 Death, his horror not dissembling, Comes that Judge His book unsealing Wrongs for ages never righted, Ah what plea shall I then tender? King of awful glory! ever Of free grace the Sovereign Giver; Think, good Lord, let it appease Thee, Weary, wayworn, Thou hast sought me, Just Judge! piercing all disguises, See my soul its guilt unveiling, 49 Of God, all-overshadowing, And not of man He draws His birth; And stoops, of woman born, to earth. Her child the holy Virgin bears, He comes with banners spread abroad, Forth from His royal hall He comes, Down from His Father's throne He comes, O Thou! God's co-eternal Son, Thy manger now with glory shines; AMBROSE, A.D. 340-397. |