soul into thy hands as it goes forth from the body.
THE FIFTH SWORD.
O VIRGIN Mary, Mother of dolours, I recall to thy mind now that sword of sorrow which pierced thy heart, when thou didst receive into thy bosom thy Son, taken down from the cross, and didst bedew his sacred Body with thy tears. Oh, what didst thou feel as thou didst gaze upon that Head pierced all around with thorns, that Side riven with the lance, those Hands and Feet dug through with the cruel nails, that beauteous Face marred with blows and denied with spittings, and all that sacred Body torn with wounds, livid with stripes, and besmeared with blood. O most sorrowful Mother, how didst thou kiss that divine Face, and wash it with thy tears, and bewail the dishonour of thy Beloved. O Mother most forlorn, I pray thee, by all the sighs and groans wrung from thy heart, by all the sorrows and the wounds of thy soul, comfort mine in the hour when it goes forth from the body, wash it with thy tears, and receive it into thy maternal arms as thou didst receive the lifeless Body of thy Son, and lead it up to the joys of heaven. Amen.
