Veni, Sancte Spiritus et emitte coelitus lucis tuae radium

Come, Holy Spirit, come! 
And from Thy celestial home 
Shed a ray of light divine!


Come, Father of the poor! 
Come, source of all our store! 
Come, within our bosoms shine! 


Thou, of comforters the best; 
Thou, the soul's most welcome guest; 
Sweet refreshment here below;


In our labour, rest most sweet; 
Grateful coolness in the heat, 
Solace in the midst of woe.


O most blessèd Light divine 
Shine within these hearts of Thine. 
And our inmost being fill!


Where you are not, man has naught, 
Nothing good in deed or thought, 
Nothing free from taint of ill.


Heal our wounds, our strength renew; 
On our dryness pour Thy dew; 
Wash the stains of guilt away:


Bend the stubborn heart and will; 
Melt the frozen, warm the chill; 
Guide the steps that go astray.


On the faithful who adore 
And confess you, evermore 
In your sev'nfold gift descend;


Give them virtue's sure reward; 
Give them Thy salvation, Lord; 
Give them joys that never end. 


Amen. Alleluia!


*

(HT: Vivificat!)

From The Tragicall Historie of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus

Now that the gloomy shadow of the earth,
Longing to view Orion's drizzling look,
Leaps from th' antarctic world unto the sky,
And dims the welkin with her pitchy breath,
Faustus, begin thine incantations ...

Quotation of note

Sure, writing is work, but it is not labor: however mopey or melancholic your verse, it wants to have included some element of the playful, or else it'll be dull for maker and reader both.

Sydney Lea, in The Practice of Poetry: Writing Exercises from Poets Who Teach, ed. Robin Behn and Chase Twichell (Quill/HarperCollins, 1992), p.18

From the archives

A sonnet about The 5th Dimension.  Here.

Spring and fall

Awake, after a long long sleep--six hours!
Trucks and buses rumble down Centre Street.
A pleasant morning--no oppressive heat,
But just enough warmth to delight the flowers.


Today is cloudy with a chance of showers.
These days of spring--so surpassingly sweet!
A cup of coffee and a bite to eat
And a few pages from Barchester Towers ...


The poet says these days soon "sour with sinning":
Chaste May becomes a lewd and sultry June.
Temperatures rise.  This large man starts to grumble.


I won't be happy lest the mercury tumble,
Green trees blush red beneath a frosty moon
And bracing breezes set the dead leaves spinning!

The Crystal Tambourine

has lately been updated with two poems, "Alphabet" and "Before Dawn."

Vincent McNabb, OP

"Lord Jesus, the one whom Thou lovest is sick" (Jn 11:3).

The one whom Thou lovest is strayed.

I have lost Thee.

I cannot find Thee.

Find me.

Seek me.

I cannot find Thee.

I have lost my way.

Thou art the Way.

Find me, or I am utterly lost.

Thou lovest me.

I do not know if I love Thee;

but I know Thou lovest me.

I do not plead my love, but Thine.

I do not plead my strength, but Thine.

I do not plead my deed, but Thine.

The one whom Thou lovest is sick.

I dare not say:

The one who loves Thee is sick.

My sickness is that I do not love Thee.

That is the source of my sickness which is approaching death.

I am sinking.

Raise me.

Come to me upon the waters.

Lord Jesus, "the one whom Thou lovest is sick."


+ + + + + + +


[found at Feast of All Saints, on the Pick a Prayer page
-- alas, this website has not been updated
since 2004!]

Blessed John Henry Newman

May He support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last.

St Ignatius Loyola

Suscipe


Take, O Lord, and receive my entire liberty: my memory, my understanding, my whole will.  All that I am and all that I possess You have given me; I surrender it all to You to be governed according to Your will.  Give me only Your love and Your grace -- with these I will be rich enough, and will desire nothing more.


Suscipe, Domine, universam meam libertatem. Accipe memoriam, intellectum, atque voluntatem omnem. Quidquid habeo vel possideo mihi largitus es; id tibi totum restituo, ac tuae prorsus voluntati trado gubernandum. Amorem tui solum cum gratia tua mihi dones, et dives sum satis, nec aliud quidquam ultra posco.

Blessed Charles de Foucauld

Prayer of Abandonment




Father,
I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord. 


Into your hands I commend my soul;
I offer it to you
with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord,
and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands,
without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father. 

St Symeon the New Theologian

You, O Christ, are the Kingdom of Heaven; You, the land promised to the gentle; You, the grazing-lands of paradise; You, the hall of the celestial banquet; You, the ineffable marriage-chamber; You, the table set for all, You, the bread of life; You, the unheard-of drink; You, both the urn for the water and the life-giving water; You, moreover, the inextinguishable lamp for each one of the saints; You, the garment and the crown and the One who distributes the crowns; You, the joy and the rest; You, the delight and the glory; You, the gaiety and the mirth; and Your grace, grace of the Spirit of all sanctity, will shine like the sun in all the saints; and You, inaccessible sun, will shine in their midst, and all will shine brightly to the degree of their faith, their asceticism, their hope and their love, their purification and their illumination by Your Spirit.

via The Oxford Book of Prayer, ed. George Appleton