Season of Septuagesima
This third section of the liturgical year is much shorter than the two preceding ones; and yet it is one of real interest. The season of Septuagesima has only three weeks of the Proper of the Time, and the feasts of the saints are far less frequent than at other periods of the year. The volume we now offer to the faithful may be called one of transition, inasmuch as it includes the period between two important seasons—viz., Christmas and Lent. We have endeavoured to teach them how to spend these three weeks; and our instructions, we trust, will show them that, even in this the least interesting portion of the ecclesiastical year, there is much to be learned. They will find the Church persevering in carrying out the one sublime idea which pervades the whole of her liturgy; and, consequently, they must derive solid profit from imbibing the spirit peculiar to this season.
Were we, therefore, to keep aloof from the Church during Septuagesima, we should not have a complete idea of her year, of which these three weeks form an essential part. The three preliminary chapters of this volume will convince them of the truth of our observation; and we feel confident that, when they have once understood the ceremonies, and formulas, and instructions, offered them by the Church during this short season, they will value it as it deserves.
For more information on the season of Septuagesima, visit here.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
When we reflect upon the terrible events which happened in the first age of the world, we are lost in astonishment at the wickedness of man, and at the effrontery wherewith he sins against his God. How was it that the dread words of God, which were spoken against our first parents in Eden, could be so soon forgotten? How could the children of Adam see their father suffering and doing such endless penance, without humbling themselves and imitating this model of repentance? How was it that the promise of a Mediator, who was to reopen the gate of heaven for them, could be believed, and yet not awaken in their souls the desire of making themselves worthy to be His ancestors, and partakers of that grand regeneration, which He was to bring to mankind? And yet, the years which followed the death of Adam were years of crime and scandal; nay, he himself lived to see one of his own children become the murderer of a brother. But why be thus surprised at the wickedness of these our first brethren? The earth is now six thousand years old in the continued reception of divine blessings and chastisements; and are men less dull of heart, less ungrateful, less rebellious towards their Maker? For the generality of men—we mean, of those who deign to believe in the fall and chastisement of our first parents, and in the destruction of the world by the deluge—what are these great truths? Mere historical facts, which have never once inspired them with a fear of God’s justice. More favoured than these early generations of the human race, they know that the Messias has been sent, that God has come down upon the earth, that He has been made Man, that He has broken Satan’s rule, that the way to heaven has been made easy by the graces embodied by the Redeemer in the Sacraments: and yet, sin reigns and triumphs in the midst of Christianity. Undoubtedly, the just are more numerous than they were in the days of Noah; but then, what riches of grace has our Redeemer poured out on our degenerate race by the ministry of His bride the Church! Yes, there are faithful Christians to be found upon the earth, and the number of the elect is every day being added to; but the multitude are living at enmity with God, and their actions are in contradiction to their faith.
When, therefore, the holy Church reminds us of those times, wherein all flesh had corrupted its way, she is urging us to think about our own conversion. Her motive in relating to us the history of the sins committed at the beginning of the world, is to induce us to examine our own consciences. Why, too, does she read to us those pages of sacred Writ, which so vividly describe the flood-gates of heaven opening and deluging the guilty earth, if not that she would warn us against mocking that great God, who thus chastised the sins of His rebellious creatures? Last week we were called upon to consider the sad consequences of Adam’s sin, a sin which we ourselves did not commit, but the effects of which lie so heavy upon us. This week we must reflect upon the sins we ourselves have committed. Though God has loaded us with favours, guided us by His light, redeemed us with His Blood, and strengthened us against all our enemies by His grace, yet have we corrupted our way, and caused our God to repent of having created us. Let us confess our wickedness, and humbly acknowledge that we owe it to the mercies of the Lord, that we have not been consumed.[1]
The Ambrosian missal contains the following exhortation for this season of the year.
Transitorium
(Dominica in Septuagesima.)
Convertimini omnes simul ad Denm mundo corde et animo, in oratione, jejuniis, et vigiliis multis. Fundite preces vestras cum lacrymis; ut deleatis chirographa peccatorum vestrorum, priusquam vobis repentinus superveniat interitus; antequam vos profundum mortis absorbeat; et cum Creator noster advenerit, paratos nos inveniat.
Be converted to God, all ye people, in purity of heart and soul, in prayer, fasting, and much watching. Pour out your prayers with tears; that the hand-writing of your sins may be blotted out, before sudden destruction come upon you, and before the deep flood of death engulf you. When our Creator comes, let him find us ready.
[1] Lam. iii. 22.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
O God of infinite justice! we have sinned; we have abused the life Thou hast given us: and when we read, in Thy Scriptures, how Thine anger chastised the sinners of former days, we are forced to acknowledge, that we have deserved to be treated in like manner. We have the happiness to be Christians and children of Thy Church; the light of faith, and the power of Thy grace, have brought us once more into Thy friendship; but how can we forget that we were once Thy enemies? And are we so deeply rooted in virtue, that we can promise ourselves perseverance in it to the end? Pierce, O Lord! pierce my flesh with Thy fear.[1] Man’s heart is hard, and unless it fear Thy sovereign Majesty, it may again offend Thee.
We are penetrated with fear, when we remember that Thou didst bury the world and destroy mankind by the waters of the deluge; for we learn by this, how Thy patience and long-suffering may be changed into inexorable anger. Thou art just, O Lord! and who shall presume to take scandal, or to murmur, when Thy wrath is enkindled against sinners?
We have defied Thy justice, we have braved Thine anger; for, though Thou hast told us that Thou wilt never more destroy sinners by a deluge of water, yet we know that Thou hast created, in Thy hatred for sin, a fire, which shall eternally prey on them that depart this life without being first reconciled with Thy offended Majesty.
O wonderful dignity of our human nature! We cannot be indifferent towards that infinite Being that created us: we must be His friends or His enemies! It could not have been otherwise. Ile gave us understanding and free-will: we know what is good and what is evil, and we must choose the one or the other: we cannot remain neutral. If we choose good, God turns towards us and loves us; if evil, we separate from Him, who is our sovereign Good. But, whereas He bears most tender mercy towards this frail creature whom He created out of pure love, and because He wills that all men should be saved, He waits with patience for the sinner to return to Him, and, in countless ways, draws his heart to repentance.
But woe to him that obeys not the divine call, when that call is the last! Then justice takes the place of mercy, and revelation tells us how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God.[2] Let us, then, flee from the wrath to come,[3] by making our peace with the God we have offended. If we be already restored to grace, let us walk in His fear, until love shall have grown strong enough in our hearts to make us run the way of the commandments.[4]
The following prayer is from the Mozarabic breviary of the Gothic Church of Spain.
Oratio
(In capite jejunii.)
Averte faciem tuam a peccatis nostris, Domine, et omnes iniquitates nostras dele; remove ab oculis tuis malarum nostrarum facinus voluptatum, nostræque confessioni clementer tuum appone auditum. Miserere, quæsumus, rogantibus nobis, qui propitius respicis in adversis, et qui desperatis cor pœnitens tribuis ad confessionem gloriæ tuæ. Sed quia publicanus a longe stans et percutiens pectus suum, sola confessione purgatus est, similiter et nos peccatores exaudi; ut sicut illi meritospetitionis suæ fructus donasti, ita et nobis supplicantibus indignis servistuis veniam digneris impendere peccatis. Amen.
Turn away thy face from our sins, O Lord, and blot out all our iniquities. Take from thine eyes the guilt of our sinful pleasures, and mercifully incline thine ear to our confession. Have mercy, we beseech thee, upon us thy suppliants, O thou that lookest with pity on them that are in affliction, and givest to the disconsolate a penitent heart, that so they may praise thy name. The publican who stood afar off and struck his breast, found forgiveness by this alone, that he confessed his sin; do thou, in like manner, mercifully hear us sinners and as thou didst give to him the fruit his prayer deserved, so also vouchsafe to grant unto us, thy suppliant unworthy servants, the pardon of our sins. Amen.
[1] Ps. cxviii. 120.
[2] Heb. x. 31.
[3] St. Matt. iii. 7.
[4] Ps. cxviii. 32.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
God promised Noah that He would never more punish the earth with a deluge. But, in His justice, He has many times visited the sins of men with a scourge which, in more senses than one, bears a resemblance to a deluge: the invasion of enemies. We meet with these invasions in every age; and each time we see the hand of God. We can trace the crimes that each of them was sent to punish, and in each we find a manifest proof of the infinite justice wherewith God governs the world.
It is not requisite that we should here mention the long list of these revolutions, which we might almost say make up the history of mankind, for in its every page we read of conquests, extinction of races, destruction of nations, and violent amalgamations, which effaced the traditions and character of the several peoples that were thus forced into union. We will confine our considerations to the two great invasions, which the just anger of God has permitted to come upon the world since the commencement of the Christian era.
The Roman Empire had made itself as preeminent in crime as it was in power. It conquered the world, and then corrupted it. Idolatry and immorality were the civilization it gave to the nations which had come under its sway. Christianity could save individuals in the great empire, but the empire itself could not be made Christian. God let loose upon it the deluge of barbarians. The stream of the wild invasion rose to the very dome of the Capitol; the empire was engulfed. The ruthless ministers of divine justice were conscious of their being chosen for this mission of vengeance, and they gave themselves the name of ‘God's scourge.’
When, later on, the Christian nations of the east had lost the faith which they themselves had transmitted to the western world; when they had disfigured the sacred symbol of faith by their blasphemous heresies; the anger of God sent upon them, from Arabia, the deluge of Mahometanism. It swept away the Christian Churches, that had existed from the very times of the apostles. Jerusalem, the favoured Jerusalem, on which Jesus had lavished His tenderest love, even she became a victim to the infidel hordes. Antioch and Alexandria, with their patriarchates, were plunged into the vilest slavery; and at length Constantinople, that had so obstinately provoked the divine indignation, was made the very capital of the Turkish empire.
And we, the western nations, if we return not to the Lord our God, shall we be spared? Shall the flood-gates of heaven's vengeance, the torrent of fresh Vandals, ever be menacing to burst upon us, yet never come? Where is the country of our own Europe, that has not corrupted its way, as in the days of Noah? that has not made conventions against the Lord and against His Christ?[1] that has not clamoured out that old cry of revolt: Let us break their bonds asunder, let us cast away their yoke from us?[2] Well may we fear lest the time is at hand, when, despite our haughty confidence in our means of defence, Christ our Lord, to whom all nations have been given by the Father, shall rule us with a rod of iron, and break us in pieces like a potter’s vessel.[3] Let us propitiate the anger of our offended God, and follow the inspired counsel of the royal prophets Serve ye the Lord with fear; embrace the discipline of His Law; lest, at any time, the Lord be angry, and ye perish from the just way.[4]
We find the following beautiful words in the Ambrosian liturgy for Septuagesima. They occur in the missal.
Transitorium
(Dominica in Quinquagesima.)
Venite, convertimini ad me, dicit Dominus. Venite flentes, fundamus lacrymas ad Deum: quia nos negleximus, et propter nos terra patitur. Nos iniquitatem fecimus, et propter nos fundamenta commota sunt. Festinemus iram Dei antevertere, flentes, et dicentes: Qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Come, be converted unto me, saith the Lord. Let us come weeping, and pour out our tears before God, for we have been negligent, and because of us is the earth suffering. We have committed iniquity, and because of us are the foundations of the world moved. Let us hasten to avert the wrath of God; let us weep, and say: O thou, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us!
[1] Ps. ii 2.
[2] Ps. ii. 3.
[3] Ibid., 9.
[4] Ibid., 12.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
God chastises the world by the deluge; but He is faithful to the promise made to our first parents, that the head of the serpent should be crushed. The human race has to be preserved, therefore, until the time shall come for the fulfilment of this promise. The Ark gives shelter to the just Noah, and to his family. The angry waters reach even to the tops of the highest mountains; but the frail yet safe vessel rides peacefully on the waves. When the day fixed by God shall come, they that dwell in this Ark shall once more tread the earth, purified as it then will be; and God will say to them, as heretofore to our first parents: ‘Increase, and multiply, and fill the earth.'[1]
Mankind, then, owes its safety to the Ark. O saving Ark, that wast planned by God Himself, and didst sail unhurt amidst the universal wreck! But if we can thus bless this contemptible wood,[2] how fervently should we love that other Ark, of which Noah’s was but the figure, and which, for now eighteen hundred years, has been saving and bringing men to their God! How fervently should we bless that Church, the bride of our Jesus, out of which there is no salvation, and in which we find that truth which delivers us from error and doubt,[3] that grace which purifies the heart, and that food which nourishes the soul and fits her for immortality!
O sacred Ark! thou art inhabited, not by one family alone, but by people of every nation under the sun. Ever since that glorious day, when our Lord launched thee in the sea of this world, thou hast been tossed by tempests, yet never wrecked. Thou wilt reach the eternal shore, witnessing, by thy unworn vigour and beauty, to the divine guidance of the Pilot, who loves thee, both for thine own sake, and for the work thou art doing for His glory. It is by thee that He peoples the world with His elect, and it is for them that He created the world.[4] When He is angry, He remembers mercy,[5] because of thee, for it is through thee that He has made His covenant with mankind.
O venerable Ark! be thou our refuge in the deluge. When Rome’s great empire, that was drunk with the blood of the martyrs,[6] sank beneath the invasion of the barbarians, the Christians were safe, because sheltered by thee; the waters slowly subsided, and the race of men that had fled to thee for protection, though conquered according to the flesh, was victorious by the spirit. Kings, who till then had been haughty despots and barbarians, kissed reverently the hand of the slave, who was now their pastor and baptized them. New peoples sprang up, and, with the Gospel as their law, began their glorious career in those very countries which the Cæsars had degraded and forfeited.
When the Saracen invasion came sweeping into ruin the eastern world, and menacing the whole of Europe, which would have been lost had not the energy of thy sons repelled the infidel horde, was it not within thee, O Ark of salvation! that the few Christians took refuge, who had resisted schism and heresy, and who, whilst the rest of their brethren apostatized from the faith, still kept alive the holy flame? Under thy protection they are even now perpetuating, in their unfortunate countries, the traditions of faith, until the divine mercy shall bring happier times, and they be permitted to multiply, as did of old the sons of Sem, in that land once so glorious and holy.
Oh! happy we, dear Church of God! that are sheltered within thee, and protected by thee against that wild sea of anarchy, which the sins of men have let loose on our earth! We beseech our Lord to check the tempest with that word of His omnipotence: 'Thus far shalt thou come, and no further, and here shalt thou break thy swelling waves.’[7] But if His divine justice has decreed that it prevail for a time, we know that it cannot reach such as dwell in thee. Of this happy number are we. In thy peaceful bosom, dear mother, we find those true riches, the riches of the soul, of which no violence can deprive us.[8] The life thou givest us is the only real life. Our true fatherland is the kingdom formed by thee. Keep us, O thou Ark of our God! Keep us, and all that are dear to us, and shelter us beneath thy roof, until the deluge of iniquity be passed away.[9] When the earth, purified by its chastisements, shall once more receive the seed of the divine word which produces the children of God, those among us, whom thou shalt not have led to our eternal home, will then venture forth, and preach to the world the principles of authority and law, of family and social rights: those sacred principles, which came from heaven, and which thou, O holy Church, art commissioned to maintain and teach, even to the end of time.
We borrow from the Mozarabic missal the following eloquent appeal to divine mercy.
Prayer
(In Dominica V. post Epiphaniam.)
Exaudi nos Domino Dens noster, et humanæ iniquitatis oblitus, divinæsolius misericordiæ recordare. Exaudi, quæsumus, dum peccare non pateris, dura emendare nos præcipis, dum rogare permittis: dum patientia reditum quærendæ correctionis exspectat; dum justitia metum futuræ discussionis insinuat: dum misericordia locum evadendæ mortis ostentat. Inveniant ante oculos tuos sacrificia nostra gratiam: peccata veniam: vulnera medicinam: suspiria pietatem: flagella consolationem: lamenta temperiem: temporaquietem: officia dignitatem: vota mercedem. Mereatur petitio effectum, contritio solatium, consecratio Sacramentum. Oblatio sanctificatione pinguescat, trepidatio securitate discedat, benedictio salubritate proficiat; ut in omnibus multiplici pietatis tuæ gratia redundante, erigas plebem, dum lætificas sacerdotem. Amen.
Graciously hear, O Lord our God, and forgetting man’s iniquity, remember only thine own mercy. Graciously hear us, we beseech thee, O thou that forbiddest us to sin, that commandest us to repent, that permittest us to pray! Thy patience awaits our return to the needed repentance; thy justice inspires us with a fear of the future judgment; thy mercy shows us how we may avoid death. May our sacrifices find favour in thine eyes; our sins, pardon; our wounds, cure; our sighs, pity; our chastisements, consolation; our tears, joy; our days, peace; our duties, honour; our prayers, reward. May our petition produce its effect; our contrition, forgiveness; our consecration, the sacred mystery. May our oblation be rich unto sanctification, our fear be cast out by security, and our blessing be fruitful unto salvation; that thus in all things, by the manifold and overflowing grace of thy mercy, thou mayst bless the people, whilst thou givest joy to the priest. Amen.
[1] Gen. ix. 1.
[2] Wisd. x. 4.
[3] St. John viii. 32.
[4] St. Matt. xxiv. 22.
[5] Hab. iii. 2.
[6] Apoc. xvii. 6.
[7] Job xxxviii. 11.
[8] St. Matt. vi. 20.
[9] Ps. lvi. 2.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
On the Saturday of the preceding week, which was devoted to the consideration of the fall of our first parents both in its own malice and in its sad consequences upon us, we turned our thoughts towards our blessed Lady, who, though a daughter of Eve, was, by the special mercy of God, preserved from the stain of original sin. Let us end this week with a like act of veneration and love towards this Immaculate Queen of heaven. We, even the most saintly among us, have not only been stained with original sin; we have our actual sins to grieve over and do penance for. This should give us a higher appreciation of her, the one single member of the human family who never committed the slightest sin. Let us turn towards her, and give expression to our feelings.
We, O Mary! have corrupted our way; we have disobeyed our Lord; we have broken His law; we have preferred our own selfish gratifications to the service we owed Him: but thou wast ever filled with His holy love, and there passed not even a shadow of sin upon thy soul, O spotless mirror of justice and holiness! Virgin most faithful! the grace of thy Bon ever triumphed in thy heart. Mystical rose! the fragrance of thy virtues unceasingly ascended to His throne, changing only in its daily increase of sweetness. Tower of ivory! fair beyond measure, without one spot to mar thy purity! House of gold! thou didst ever reflect the precious gifts of the Holy Ghost. Have pity, then, upon us, for we are sinners.
We have obliged our God to repent that He made us: but in thee, dear Mother, He has ever been well pleased. Thou art the good land, wherein His divine seed yielded its thousandfold of fruit: pray for us, that He give fresh fertility to our hearts, and root up from them the thorns, which choke the heavenly plant. We are defiled by sin; may He, through the merits of the tears thou didst shed at the foot of the cross, mercifully cleanse us. If thy divine Son have already pardoned us, there are the consequences of our sins, which still weaken and humble us, like the sores of wounds that have been cured: take us, sweet Mother of our Jesus, under the mantle of thy tender care. We have too little dread of sin; we are so often on the verge of offending our God; oh! obtain for these poor children of thine courage and firmness of resolution, and ambition for holiness of life. Thy intercession must win for us that precious devotedness to God’s honour, which kills self-love, the root of sin. Oh! accursed self-love, which may lead us to hell, who are now perhaps in the grace of thy divine Son!
The deluge, brought on by our sins, is hurrying its vengeance against mankind; and we, O Mary! are resolved to seek our refuge in the Ark of the Church, the safe shelter created for us by thy Jesus. But we presume to pray to thee for our brethren throughout the world. Our God has given thee a power to stay His anger, and to win for guilty mortals an extension of mercy: show this power now, for our world is provoking its Master to destroy it. If the flood-gate of His just indignation burst upon the face of our earth, millions of souls that have been redeemed by the Blood of thy divine Son would be lost eternally. If the sweet dove of peace bring her olive-branch only when that terrible justice is appeased, it would be too late for thy loving heart. Come before the deluge, O beautiful rainbow of our Father’s reconciliation! The love of a Mother, who is the very Queen of mercy, emboldens us to sue for universal mercy. Can the prayer of her, in whose purity and innocence the very God of holiness finds no blemish, be denied? Pray Him, then, to pardon us, and all sinners!
We select a few stanzas from the celebrated ‘Complaint to Mary,’ composed by the monk Euthymius. The Greek Church has inserted it in her liturgy.
Canon
Quomodo, O Domina, vitam meam impuram et immensorum peccatorum meorum multitudinem lamentabor? Nescio quid dicam tibi, castissima, et male metuo; sed adjuva me.
Unde exordiar dicere ego miser de improbitate mea, et delictis nefandis? Ha! quid de me fiet? Verum age, Domina, et mei ante exitum ex hac luce miserare.
Omnem viam peccatorum cum ambulassem, immaculata Virgo, salutis semitam handquaquam inveni. Sed ad bonitatem tuam confugio; ne me ex animo pœnitentem aspernare.
Mortis horam, O purissima, terribileque tribunal assidue cogito; sed peccandi consuetudine vehementer ad peccatum illicior. Fer mihi opem.
Bonorum exitiabilis inimicus cernens me nunc nudum, et patrono ac tutore destitutum, et a divinis virtutibus alienissimum, ad devorandum me irruit. Præveni, et averte illuni, o Domina.
Proh dolor! imaginem Dei in me ego miser mentis arrogantia contaminavi. Quo in posterum me vertam? Festina, Virgo, ad auxilium.
Angelorum ordines et exercitus, Virtutes cœlorum, potentiam Filii tui contremiscunt, o castissima. Ego vero desperatus omni timore vaco.
In fovea delictorum meorum suffocatum non me derelinquas, Domina. Improbissimua enim hostis me desperatione conflictantem videns, ridet; sed tu potenti mana tua me erige.
Formidabile est judicium, O misera et stolida anima mea, et pœna horribilis atque sempiterna. Nihilominus vel nunc ante Matrem judieis ac Dei tui, supplex procumbe. Cur enim te ipsam desperas?
O intaminata Virgo, ego ob multitudinem immensorum peccatorum meorum repletus sum tenebris, oculique animæ meæ, et mens mea immutata sunt.
Quare tu luminis tui splendoribus ad dulcedinem in vacuitate passionum sitam celeriter me revoca.
Gemitus perennes mihi largire, Domina, fontemque lacrymarum, ut tam multa flagitia mea vulneraque inexplicabilia eluam, quo vitam æternam adipiscar.
En ego servus tuus, incorruptissima Virgo, multo cum timore et desiderio ad te accedo: gnarus quantum sæpenumero tua valuerit deprecatio. Valet sane plurimum, O benedictissima, apud Filium Matris supplicatio, et ejus viscera commovet.
Judicem misericordem et benignum exspecto Filium tuum, O linguis omnium prædicanda; ne me despicias sed eum mihi redde propitium, ut me tunc ad dexteram tribunalis sui incorrupti statuat: in te enim speravi.
O blessed Lady! how shall I worthily lament over my impure life, and the multitude of my grievous sins? I know not how to address thee, most chaste Virgin! I tremble with fear; but do thou help me.
I will speak of my wickedness and my hateful sins; but where shall I begin? Alas! what will become of me, a wretched sinner? Do thou, O blessed Lady, have compassion on me before my departure from this life.
I, having gone in every path that sinner ever trod, how shall I find now the way of salvation, O Immaculate Virgin? Yet have I recourse to thy goodness; despise me not, for I repent from my heart.
My thoughts are ever on the hour of death, and on the dread tribunal; and yet an evil habit violently tempts me to sin. O most pure Virgin, do thou help me.
The deadly enemy of all that is good, seeing me poor and naked, without patron or protector, and most destitute of heavenly virtue, rushes forward that he may devour me. O blessed Lady! forbid him, and drive him far from me.
Alas, unhappy man! in the arrogance of my soul, I have defiled the image of God that was in me. Whither shall I now turn? Hasten to my assistance, O Virgin ever holy!
The choirs and hosts of Angels, the heavenly Powers, tremble in the presence of thy all-powerful Son, O Immaculate Mother! and I, who have nothing wherein to hope, am so devoid of fear!
Suffer me not, O blessed Lady! to perish in the pit of my sins, into which I have fallen. The cruel enemy sees me struggling in despair, and mocks me. Do thou stretch forth thy hand, that can so well deliver me.
Awful is the judgment of God, unhappy senseless soul! and everlasting is the punishment. But turn thee, whilst yet there is time, and prostrate in prayer before the Mother of thy Judge and Lord. Why wouldst thou despair?
O Immaculate Virgin! the multitude of my grievous sins has set a thick darkness around me; the eyes of my soul, and my understanding, are blinded.
Wherefore, I beseech thee, quickly lead me, by the brightness of thy light, to sweet freedom from my passions.
Grant me an unceasing sorrow, O blessed Lady, and a fount of tears, that I may wash away my countless sins and wounds, and gain eternal life.
Lo! I thy servant, most sinless Virgin! approach thee in deep reverence and love, for I know the power of thy prayer. Great, indeed, with her Son, is the power of the Mother's prayer, and his heart is moved when she asks, O most blessed Mother!
O Mother worthy of the whole world’s praise! thy Son will be to me a merciful and compassionate Judge. Despise me not, but let me find favour in his sight, that he may set me on the right hand of his most just tribunal; for in thee have I put my trust.