Part 13 (1/2)

Nay, ere Thou strip her mortal vestment, turn My steps toward the steep ascent, that whole And pure before Thy face she may be brought.

LXXI.

_A PRAYER FOR PURIFICATION._

_Forse perche d' altrui._

Perchance that I might learn what pity is, That I might laugh at erring men no more, Secure in my own strength as heretofore, My soul hath fallen from her state of bliss: Nor know I under any flag but this How fighting I may 'scape those perils sore, Or how survive the rout and horrid roar Of adverse hosts, if I Thy succour miss.

O fles.h.!.+ O blood! O cross! O pain extreme!

By you may those foul sins be purified, Wherein my fathers were, and I was born!

Lo, Thou alone art good: let Thy supreme Pity my state of evil cleanse and hide-- So near to death, so far from G.o.d, forlorn.

LXXII.

_A PRAYER FOR AID._

_Deh fammiti vedere._

Oh, make me see Thee, Lord, where'er I go!

If mortal beauty sets my soul on fire, That flame when near to Thine must needs expire, And I with love of only Thee shall glow.

Dear Lord, Thy help I seek against this woe, These torments that my spirit vex and tire; Thou only with new strength canst re-inspire My will, my sense, my courage faint and low.

Thou gavest me on earth this soul divine; And Thou within this body weak and frail Didst prison it--how sadly there to live!

How can I make its lot less vile than mine?

Without Thee, Lord, all goodness seems to fail.

To alter fate is G.o.d's prerogative.

LXXIII.

_AT THE FOOT OF THE CROSS._

_Scarco d' un' importuna._

Freed from a burden sore and grievous band, Dear Lord, and from this wearying world untied, Like a frail bark I turn me to Thy side, As from a fierce storm to a tranquil land.

Thy thorns, Thy nails, and either bleeding hand, With Thy mild gentle piteous face, provide Promise of help and mercies multiplied, And hope that yet my soul secure may stand.

Let not Thy holy eyes be just to see My evil past, Thy chastened ears to hear And stretch the arm of judgment to my crime: Let Thy blood only lave and succour me, Yielding more perfect pardon, better cheer, As older still I grow with lengthening time.

LXXIV.

FIRST READING.