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| Rogier Van der Weyden |
Oh! Sacred Feet, all gashed and torn,
Bruised by the hammer's cruel blows,
Bathed in the life-blood dripping down
From anguished Heart in bitter throes;
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Dear precious Wounds, God's bleeding prayers,
Ah! plead for me when death draws nigh.
Oh, Mangled Hands, transfixed and wan,
in suppliance raised to Heaven above,
Pierced by the nails that torture wrung,
From breaking Heart of burning love;
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Dear precious Wounds, God's bleeding prayers,
Ah! plead for me when death draws nigh.
Oh! Sacred Refuge, tender Side,
Rent by the lance with cruel thrust,
There, where His Heart is, let me hide,
There, where His love is, let me trust.
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Most Holy Wound, allay my fears,
Receive my soul when death draws nigh
Bruised by the hammer's cruel blows,
Bathed in the life-blood dripping down
From anguished Heart in bitter throes;
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Dear precious Wounds, God's bleeding prayers,
Ah! plead for me when death draws nigh.
Oh, Mangled Hands, transfixed and wan,
in suppliance raised to Heaven above,
Pierced by the nails that torture wrung,
From breaking Heart of burning love;
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Dear precious Wounds, God's bleeding prayers,
Ah! plead for me when death draws nigh.
Oh! Sacred Refuge, tender Side,
Rent by the lance with cruel thrust,
There, where His Heart is, let me hide,
There, where His love is, let me trust.
I press You to my lips in tears,
With contrite sorrow, fervent sigh.
Most Holy Wound, allay my fears,
Receive my soul when death draws nigh
--"Prayer to the Five Wounds," The Little Treasury of Leaflets,
vol.IV (Dublin: Gill, 1914) 893-894.
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| Carravagio |
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