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ON MONDAY, AT PRIME


     Ah, tender Lord! 1. When Thy divine head was bowed down by weakness and utter debility; 2. Thy fair throat very grievously distended; 3. Thy blessed features polluted with spittle and blood; 4. Thy clear complexion made livid; 5. All Thy beautiful form smitten with death. Grant me, therefore, O Lord, to love bodily pain, and to seek all my rest in Thee, to endure injuries willingly from others, to desire contempt, to die to my affections and all my lusts.
     Sweet Lord! 1. When Thy right hand was nailed down; 2. Thy left hand struck through; 3. Thy right arm extended; 4. Thy left stretched out; 5. Thy right foot hammered through; 6. Thy left made fast; 7. Thou didst hang suspended in a swoon; 8. And in great weariness of Thy divine limbs; 9. All Thy tender joints were immovably strained on the hard bed of the cross; 10. Thy body was drenched in many places with Thy hot blood. Therefore, O Lord, I beseech that I may be made immovably fast to Thee in joy and sorrow, that all the powers of my body and soul may be distended on Thy cross, and my reason and affections nailed to it. Grant me inability to indulge in bodily pleasure, promptness in seeking Thy praise and honour. I crave that no limb of my body may be without a living token of Thy death, a spontaneous proof of the image of Thy Passion.

     


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