The Catholic World
Chapter 75 : All holy martyrs, all holy confessors, All holy hermits, all holy virgins, All ye saint

All holy martyrs, all holy confessors, All holy hermits, all holy virgins, All ye saints of G.o.d, pray for him.

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GERONTIUS.

Rouse thee, my fainting soul, and play the man; And through such waning span Of life and thought as still has to be trod, Prepare to meet thy G.o.d.

And while the storm of that bewilderment Is for a season spent, And, ere afresh the ruin on thee fall, Use well the interval.

a.s.sISTANTS.

Be merciful, be gracious; spare him, Lord.

Be merciful, be gracious; Lord, deliver him.

From the sins that are pa.s.sed; From thy frown and thine ire; From the perils of dying; From any complying With sin, or denying His G.o.d, or relying On self, at the last; From the nethermost fire; From all that is evil; From power of the devil; Thy servant deliver, For once and for ever.

By thy birth, and by thy cross, Rescue him from endless loss; By thy death and burial, Save him from a final fall; By thy rising from the tomb, By thy mounting up above, By the Spirit's gracious love, Save him in the day of doom.

GERONTIUS.

Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, De profundis oro te, Miserere, judex meus, Parce mihi, Domine.

Firmly I believe and truly G.o.d is Three, and G.o.d is One; And I next acknowledge duly Manhood taken by the Son.

And I trust and hope most fully In that manhood crucified; And each thought and deed unruly Do to death, as he has died.

Simply to his grace and wholly Light and life and strength belong, And I love supremely, solely, Him the holy, him the strong.

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Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, De profundis oro te, Miserere, judex meus, Parce mihi, Domine.

And I hold in veneration, For the love of him alone, Holy Church, as his creation.

And her teachings, as his own.

And I take with joy whatever Now besets me, pain or fear, And with a strong will I sever All the ties which bind me here.

Adoration aye be given, With and through the angelic host, To the G.o.d of earth and heaven, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Sanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, De profundis oro te, Miserere, judex meus, Mortis in discrimine.

I can no more; for now it comes again, That sense of ruin, which is worse than pain, That masterful negation and collapse Of all that makes me man; as though I bent Over the dizzy brink Of some sheer infinite descent; Or worse, as though Down, down for ever I was falling through The solid framework of created things, And needs must sink and sink Into the vast abyss. And, crueller still, A fierce and restless fright begins to fill The mansion of my soul. And, worse and worse, Some bodily form of ill Floats on the wind, with many a loathsome curse Tainting the hallowed air, and laughs and flaps Its hideous wings, And makes me wild with horror and dismay.

O Jesu, help! pray for me, Mary, pray!

Some angel, Jesu! such as came to thee In thine own agony......

Mary, pray for me. Joseph, pray for me. Mary, pray for me.

a.s.sISTANTS.

Rescue him, O Lord, in this his evil hour, As of old so many by thy gracious power:--Amen.

Enoch and Elias from the common doom; Amen.

Noe from the waters in a saving home; Amen.

Abraham from th' abounding guilt of heathenesse; Amen.

Job from all his multiform and fell distress; Amen.

Isaac, when his father's knife was raised to slay; Amen.

Lot from burning Sodom on its judgment-day; Amen.

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Moses from the land of bondage and despair; Amen.

Daniel from the hungry lions in their lair; Amen.

And the children three amid the furnace-flame; Amen.

Chaste Susanna from the slander and the shame; Amen.

David from Golia and the wrath of Saul; Amen.

And the two apostles from their prison-thrall; Amen.

Thecla from her torments; Amen: --so, to show thy power, Rescue this thy servant in his evil hour.

GERONTIUS.

Novissima hora est; and I fain would sleep.

The pain has wearied me... . Into thy hands, Lord, into thy hands... . .

THE PRIEST.

Proficiscere, anima Christiana de hoc mundo!

Go forth upon thy journey, Christian soul!

Go from this world! Go, in the name of G.o.d, The omnipotent Father, who created thee!

Go, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, Son of the Living G.o.d, who bled for thee!

Go, in the name of th' Holy Spirit, who Hath been poured out on thee! Go, in the name Of angels and archangels; in the name Of thrones and dominations; in the name Of princedoms and of powers; and in the name Of cherubim and seraphim, go forth!

Go, in the name of patriarchs and prophets; And of apostles and evangelists, Of martyrs and confessors; in the name Of holy monks and hermits; in the name Of holy virgins; and all saints of G.o.d, Both men and women, go! Go on thy course; And may thy place to-day be found in peace, And may thy dwelling be the holy mount Of Sion: through the same, through Christ, our Lord.

-- 2.

SOUL Of GERONTIUS.

I went to sleep; and now I am refreshed.

A strange refreshment: for I feel in me An inexpressive lightness, and a sense Of freedom, as I were at length myself, And ne'er had been before. How still it is!

I hear no more the busy beat of time, No, nor my fluttering breath, nor struggling pulse; Nor does one moment differ from the next.

I had a dream; yes:--some one softly said "He's gone;" and then a sigh went round the room.

And then I surely heard a priestly voice Cry "Subvenite;" and they knelt in prayer.

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I seem to hear him still; but thin and low, And fainter and more faint the accents come, As at an ever-widening interval.

Ah! whence is this? What is this severance?

This silence pours a solitariness Into the very essence of my soul; And the deep rest, so soothing and so sweet, Hath something too of sternness and of pain.

For it drives back my thoughts upon their spring By a strange introversion, and perforce I now begin to feed upon myself, Because I have naught else to feed upon.

Am I alive or dead? I am not dead, But in the body still; for I possess A sort of confidence, which clings to me, That each particular organ holds its place As heretofore, combining with the rest Into one symmetry, that wraps me round, And makes me man; and surely I could move, Did I but will it, every part of me.

And yet I cannot to my sense bring home, By very trial, that I have the power.

'Tis strange; I cannot stir a hand or foot, I cannot make my fingers or my lips By mutual pressure witness each to each, Nor by the eyelid's instantaneous stroke a.s.sure myself I have a body still.

Nor do I know my very att.i.tude, Nor if I stand, or lie, or sit, or kneel.

So much I know, not knowing how I know, That the vast universe, where I have dwelt, Is quitting me, or I am quitting it.

Or I or it is rus.h.i.+ng on the wings Of light or lightning on an onward course, And we e'en now are million miles apart.

Yet . . is this peremptory severance Wrought out in lengthy measurements of s.p.a.ce, Which grow and multiply by speed and time?

Or am I traversing infinity By endless subdivision, hurrying back From finite toward infinitesimal, Thus dying out of the expanded world?

Another marvel; some one has me fast Within his ample palm; 'tis not a grasp Such as they use on earth, but all around Over the surface of my subtle being, As though I were a sphere, and capable To be accosted thus, a uniform And gentle pressure tells me I am not Self-moving, but borne forward on my way.