21.12.2012, 10:37
Blessed Offender: who thyself hast tried
How far a sinner differs from a Saint
Join thy wet eyes, with tears of my complaint,
While I sigh for that grave, for which thou cried.
No longer let my sinful soul abide
In fever of thy first desires faint:
But let that love which last thy heart did taint
With pangs of thy repentance pierce my side.
So shall my soul no foolish virgin be
With empty lamp: but like a Magdalen, bear
For ointment box a breast with oil of grace:
And so the zeal, which then shall burn in me,
May make my heart like to a lamp appear
And in my spouse's palace give me place.
How far a sinner differs from a Saint
Join thy wet eyes, with tears of my complaint,
While I sigh for that grave, for which thou cried.
No longer let my sinful soul abide
In fever of thy first desires faint:
But let that love which last thy heart did taint
With pangs of thy repentance pierce my side.
So shall my soul no foolish virgin be
With empty lamp: but like a Magdalen, bear
For ointment box a breast with oil of grace:
And so the zeal, which then shall burn in me,
May make my heart like to a lamp appear
And in my spouse's palace give me place.