Sing to the tune of The Glory of These Forty Days:
It is the time of solemn fast:
The mournful days of Lent are here,
The priests and people weep aloud,
The temple echoes with their tears.
But all defy the wrath of God
And all the grieving words deceive,
Unless repentant hearts are true
And contrite in our shame we grieve.
In vain our foreheads mark’d with ash,
In vain the bow’d and beaten breast,
Unless true sorrow for our sins
Our very soul marks with distress.
With hearts thus Broken by our sins,
Before our God, then let us fall,
Who, knowing all our wicked faults,
Demands no punishment at all.
O righteous Judge! O God Most High!
Withhold the forfeit we should pay,
And give both time for true reform
And grace to help us change our way.
Grant us a harvest from our fast,
O, high and blessed Trinity,
Which we may reap in heav’n with you,
O, one and perfect Unity.
Solemne nos jejunii, Paris Breviary, XVIII, tr. John-Julian, OJN, 1997. © 1998 Order of Julian of Norwich. All rights reserved.
I Didn’t Know
1 day ago