Choose aught, like that untoward race, —
Barabbas, Lord, for thee!
Vouchsafe to listen, Saviour dear;
Directing spirit, he thou near,
Thou art my God, my all!
Pray for us, Mary, Mother sweet.
Mother most kind, thy Son entreat,
Ever refresh our weary feet.
That seek His homeward call!
DECADE IV.
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!
Jesus, who dying didst commend
Thy Mother to thy well-loved friend,
To be a mutual stay;
Vouchsafe, in trouble and in care,
