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St. Michael ) Jesu! life-spring of the soul! Grant us with Michael still, o The Father's pow'r, and glory Lord, bright!

Against the prince of pride to Chee with the Angels we extol;

fight; From thee they draw their life So may a crown be our reward, and light.

Before the Lamb's pure throne

of light. Thy thousand thousand hosts are spread,

Now to the Father and the Son, Embattled o'er the azure sky; Who rose from death, all glory But Michael bears thy standard be; dread,

[high. With thee, O holy Comforter, And lifts the mighty cross on Henceforth through all eternity. He in that sign the rebel powers [Within the Octave of the AscenDid with their dragon prince

sion.] expel;

Glory to Jesus, who returns And hurl'd them from the heav'n's In pomp triumphant to the sky, high towers,

With thee, O father, and with thee, Down like a thunderbolt to hell. O Holy Ghost, eternally.

St. Joseph. Joseph, pure spouse of that im- Him in Jerusalem didst seek and mortal bride,

find; Who shines in ever-virgin glory Oh, day of joy to thee!

bright, Thy praise let all the earth re- Not until after death their blissful echoing send

crown Back to the realms of light. Others obtain; but unto thee was

given, Thee, when sore doubts of thine In thine own lifetime to enjoy thy affianc'd wife

God, Had fill’d thy righteous spirit with As do the blest in heaven. dismay,

[words, An angel visited, and, with blest Grant us, great Trinity, for JoScatter'd thy fears away.

seph's sake,

The heights of immortality to Thine arms embrac'd thy Maker gain; newly born;

There, with glad tongues, thy With him to Egypt's desert didst praise to celebrate thou flee;

In one eternal strain.

All Saints,

Giver of life, eternal Lord!

Army of Martyrs ! holy priests Thy own redeem'd defend;

In beauteous array ! Mother of grace! thy children save, Ye happy troops of virgins chaste !

And help them to the end. Wash all our sins away. Ye thousand thousand angel hosts! All ye who high above the stars

Assist us in our need; (choir ! In heavenly glory reign ! Ye Patriarchs! with the Prophet May we through your blest prayers For our forgiveness plead.

the gifts

Of endless life obtain. Herald of Christ ! and thou who still

Praise, honour, to the Father be, Dost heaven's dread keys retain! Praise to his only Son : Ye glorious Apostles all !

Praise to the Spirit Paraclete, Unloose our guilty chain.

While ceaseless ages run.

St. Francis Xavier.

My God, I love thee, not because Then why, O blessed Jesu Christ, I hope for heav'n thereby;

Should I not love thee well; Nor because they, who love thee Not for the sake of winning hea. not,

ven, Must burn eternally.

Or of escaping hell: Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me Not with the hope of gaining Upon the Cross embrace,

ought; For me didst bear the nails and Not seeking a reward; spear,

But as thyself hast loved me, And manifold disgrace,

O ever-loving Lord ? And griefs and torments number- E'en so I love thee, and will love, less,

And in thy praise will sing; And sweat of agony;

Solely because thou art my God, E'en death itself—and all for one And my eternal King. Who was thine enemy !

A Confessor or Bishop.

Iste Confessor Domini, colentes,
Quem pie laudant populi per or-

The Confessor of Christ, from shore

to shore, Worshipp'd with solemn rite;

bem,

Hac die lætus meruit beatas

Scandere sedes.

This day went up with joy, his

labours o'er,
To his blest seat in light.

If it be not the day of his death, the following is substituted. Hac die lætus meruit supremos This day receives those honours Laudis honores.

which are his,

High in the realms of light. Qui pius, prudens, humilis, pudi- Holy and innocent were all his cus,

ways; Sobriam duxit sine labe vitam, Sweet, temperate, unstain'd ; Donec humanos animavit auræ His life was prayer, - his every Spiritus artus.

breath was praise,

While breath to him remain'd. Cujus ob præstans meritum fre- Ofttimes his merits high in every quenter,

land, Ægra quæ passim jacuere mem In cures have been displayed ; bra,

And still does health return at his Viribus morbi domitis, saluti

command Restituuntur.

To many a frame decay'd. Noster hinc illi chorus obsequen- Therefore to him triumphant praise tem

we pay, Concinit laudem, celebresque pal. And yearly songs renew ; mas;

Praying our glorious Saint for us Ut piis ejus precibus juvemur

to pray, Omne per ævum.

All the long ages through. Sit salus illi, decus, atque virtus. To God, of all the centre and the Qui super cæli solio coruscans,

source, Totius mundi seriem gubernat Be power and glory given ; Trinus et unus.

Who sways the mighty world

through all its course, From the bright throne of Hea

ven.

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Sequence in Mass for the Dead.

Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sæclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla.
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando Judex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus !

Nigher still, and still more nigh
Draws the day of prophecy,
Doom'd to melt the earth and sky.
Oh, what trembling there shall be,
When the world its judge shall see,

Coming in dread majesty!

Tuba mirum spargens sonum Per sepulchra regionum, Coget omnes ante thronum.

Mors stupebit, et natura, Cum resurget creatura, Judicanti responsura. Liber scriptus proferetur, In quo totum continetur, Unde mundus judicetur.

Judex ergo cum sedebit, Quidquid latet, apparebit: Nil inultum remanebit.

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronum rogaturus,
Cum vix justus sit securus?

Rex tremendæ majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis,
Salva me, fons pietatis.
Recordare, Jesu pie,
Quod sum causa tuæ viæ :
Ne me perdas illa die.
Quærens me, sedisti lassus;
Redemisti, crucem passus :
Tantus labor non sit cassus.
Juste Judex ultionis,
Donum fac remissionis
Ante diem rationis.
Ingemisco tamquam reus :
Culpa rubet vultus meus:
Supplicanti parce, Deus.
Qui Mariam absolvisti,
Et latronem exaudisti,
Mihi quoque spem dedisti.
Preces meæ non sunt dignæ :
Sed tu bonus fac benigne,
Ne perenni cremer igne.

Hark! the trump, with thrilling

tone, From sepulchral regions lone, Summons all before the throne: Time and death it doth appal, To see the buried ages all Rise to answer at the call. Now the books are open spread; Now the writing must be read, Which condemns the quick and

dead : Now, before the Judge severe Hidden things must all appear ; Nought can pass unpunish'd here. What shall guilty I then plead ? Who for me will intercede, When the saints shall comfort

need? King of dreadful majesty! Who dost freely justify! Fount of pity, save thou me! Recollect, O love divine ! 'Twas for this lost sheep of thine Thou thy glory didst resign : Satest wearied seeking me; Sufferedst upon the tree : Let not vain thy labour be. Judge of justice, hear my prayer! Spare me, Lord, in mercy spare ! Ere the reckoning-day appear. Lo! thy gracious face I seek; Shame and grief are on my cheek; Sighs and tears my sorrow speak. Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive; Didst the dying thief receive; Hence doth hope within me live. Worthless are my prayers, I know; Yet, oh, cause me not to go Into everlasting woe. Sever'd from the guilty band, Make me with thy sheep to stand, Placing me on thy right hand.

Inter oves locum præsta, Et ab hædis me sequestra, Statuens in parte dextra.

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