Ave Maria verse

FROM Instructions for the use of the beades

If my disciple thou wilt be,

take up thy cross and follow me:

The cross that was most odious,

is by my death made glorious.

AVE MARIA

With humble mind I take my way

unto the Blessed Virgin pure:

Upon my knees Ave to say,

that she may help my sins to cure.

GRATIA PLENA

O Marie meek hail full of grace

Whom when Elizabeth did view

She said there was wither in place

the Mother of her Lord Iesu

DOMINVS TECVM

O Lady dear our Lord with thee,

whom shepherds first in manger find

A star from the east did guide king's three

to visit him, with devout mind.

BENEDICTA TV IN MVLIERIBVS

Among women thou blessed be,

who scathed the swords that infants slew:

Whiles Herod sought most cruelly,

with all to kill thy Son Iesu.

ET BENEDICTVS FRVCTVS VENTRIS TVI

The fruit of thy womb blessed be,

whom wrongfully to death they drew.

What greater cross could come to thee,

than this thou bear with Christ Iesu.

SANCTA MARIA ORA PRO NOBIS

O holy mother pray for me,

whose sins deserve eternal pain:

That after death my soul may be,

where my sweet Iesu now doeth reign.

Marie bear Christ at years fifteen.

he lived in earth three and thirty.

Fifteen years after was she seen.

Assumed to heaven at threescore three.

Seven Joys of Our Lady

I.

Rejoice ! O sinless child of Eve,
Who didst at Gabriel's word conceive
The Saviour of our race.

II.
Rejoice ! O prodigy of earth !
Tho' poor, yet painless, was the birth
Of Christ, thy Child of Grace.

III.
Rejoice ! for lo, the Eastern kings
In homage bring their offerings ;
The choicest of the land.

IV.
Rejoice ! O thou with sorrow torn :
Behold, at length, thy lost first born
Amidst the Doctors' band.

V.
Rejoice ! not long the parting dread :
For He, whom thou didst mourn as dead,
Has risen from the grave.

VI.
Rejoice ! thy Child ascends on high,
And gains His palace in the sky,
Our guilty souls to save.

VII.
Rejoice ! to thee at length 'twas given
To mount the clouds. O Queen of Heaven,
We thy protection crave.

Source

St. Alphonsus poem on Nativity

From starry skies descending,

Thou comest, glorious King,

A manger low Thy bed,

In winter's icy sting;

O my dearest Child most holy,

Shudd'ring, trembling in the cold!

Great God, Thou lovest me!

What suff'ring Thou didst bear,

That I near Thee might be!

Thou art the world's Creator,

God's own and true Word,

Yet here no robe, no fire

For Thee, Divine Lord.

Dearest, fairest, sweetest Infant,

Dire this state of poverty.

The more I care for Thee,

Since Thou, o Love Divine,

Will'st now so poor to be.

Good lyric rhyme expels profane immodest songs

He composed and transcribed a number of instructions, adapted to the capacities of all ages and all ranks, translating them into the languages of the countries he converted. They were read in public several times a week, that they might be well impressed in the memory of the hearers. He drew up an epitome of the principal events occurring since the fall of Adam till the preaching of the apostles; and, that this might be more interesting to the children and the peasantry, he threw it into rhyme, when it was learned and sung with delight. Experience taught him the advantage of versifying his written instructions. The Indians have a quick ear for melody and poetry. The plan, too, proved doubly useful; for, besides imparting a knowledge of the principal mysteries of religion, it also expelled the profane, immodest songs to which the people had previously been much addicted. All along the coasts of Malabar and the Fishery, and in the Moluccas, we are assured that, night and day, men, women, and children might be heard singing the Our Father the Hail Mary, the Creed, the Commandments, and the chief mysteries of faith, all reduced to hymns by the holy father.

The Life of St. Francis Xavier

Think on that dread eternity To which thou art hast'ning ever;

Lines Sung during the Missions.

LOVE God, who loveth thee,
For love itself is He;
He bids the sinner weep;
He saith: Poor child, from sin depart;
Rest thee within thy Father's heart;

Turn to thy Shepherd, wandering sheep.
A messenger from God am I,
Pardon and grace I offer thee;
Perchance thine hour of death draws nigh:
For thy soul's sake, ah ! list to me.

The God of mercy calleth thee;
Turn not deaf ear and rebel heart:
If now His call rejected be
His grace He ll ne'er again impart.

Poor sinful one ! can'st thou remain
In God's disgrace, yet tremble not?
Depart from sin and pleasures vain
Ere hell becomes thy dreadful lot.

Long-suffering is thy Saviour dear,
But not forever will He wait;
If suddenly thy death draws near,
Say, sinner, what shall be thy fate?

Our Jesus is so sweet, so mild,
How canst thou turn from Him away?
Haste, then, with God be reconciled;
Poor sinner, make no vain delay.

How canst thou tranquil, joyous dwell;
Unmindful of eternity ?
And on the very brink of hell
Slight ev'ry grace God offers thee?

Ere long thy life must pass away;
Know'st thou the hour when thou shalt die?
Perchance ere dawns another day
Thou wilt behold eternity !

My son, while yet thou hast the pow'r
Reflect how soon thy life must end
How on its last sad, solemn hour
Eternal pains or joys depend.

If thou pursue thy careless way,
He who is now despis'd by thee
Will meet thee on that dying day
And thy Eternal Judge will be.

Then, sinner, wilt thou trembling stand,
Recalling past iniquity,
Dreading to fall into His hand
Who wrathful stands in majesty.

They who so blindly risk d their all,
Nor thought on hell's eternal fire,
Now after death too surely fall
Into the abyss so dark and dire.

And when shall hell's sharp pains be o'er?
The insult to God's majesty
Has been so deep that evermore
Those pains shall last, eternally.

Think on that dread eternity
To which thou art hast'ning ever;
Think of that long futurity
Of pains that will leave thee never.


From: http://www.archive.org/stream/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft_djvu.txt

WHY serve the world, thy enemy,

Eternal Maxims.

WHY serve the world, thy enemy,
And from thy thankless heart dethrone
That God whose love created thee
To love and serve Himself alone ?

Slave of a tyrant thou dost live;
He promises, and breaks his word,
And for thy service nought can give
But bitter thorns as thy reward.

Remember, death will come one day;
His touch thy fragile life destroys;
Then, then, alas ! will fade away
Earth's cheating hopes and empty joys.

All worldly pleasures then will be
To thee but weariness and woe;
The scene of life must close for thee,
Thy part is played, and thou must go.

That body thou hast oft caress'd
Such noisome stench shall send around,
That all will fly the loathsome pest,
And hide the carrion in the ground.

Forth flies the spirit from this clay,
Alone before its God to stand;
The soul scarce yet has passed away,
The judge already is at hand.

Sinner ! sinner ! what wilt thou do,
Standing before the awful throne?
In vain for mercy wouldst thou sue,
Stern Justice triumphs there alone.

Ah ! miserable, thoughtless one !
Say, what excuse thou darest bring,
Before that gaze of brightest sun,
The face of thy offended King.

What horror then the soul shall pierce,
When, spurned away by heavenly ire,
Tis hurled into the torment fierce
Of never, never-ending fire !

Then shall be closed upon thy pain
The gates of hope and liberty;
Thou seekest death, in vain, in vain;
It flies and mocks thy misery.

That moment when this life shall fail,
Or heaven or hell thy lot must be;
Eternal joys or endless wail,
O moment ! O eternity !

Think, then, ere yet this life is o'er,
On that whereon thy ALL depends;
That EVERMORE or NEVERMORE,
Eternity which never ends !

From: http://www.archive.org/stream/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft_djvu.txt

Dead to the world already ere he dies

On the Tomb of Alexander the Great.

BEHOLD the end of all the pomp of earth,
All human greatness, beauty, noble birth !
Worms, rottenness, a little dust, a stone,
Close the brief scene of life for ev'ry one.
Who gives his heart to God alone is wise,
Dead to the world already ere he dies.
O thou that readest this ! thou, too, one day
Must die; which lot dost thou prefer, I pray,
To die a slave, and then in bliss to reign,
Or die a king, and pass to endless pain ?
Reflect, prepare; the present time flies fast;
Repentance comes too late when life is past.

From:
http://www.archive.org/stream/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft/victoriesmartyrs09liguuoft_djvu.txt