CAPG's Blog 

Holy Deacon! by thy yearning
For the Martyr's glorious crown;
By thy tortures, by thy burning,
By thy death of bright renown;
When the world and flesh and devil
Tempt our souls to sin and evil,
Dear Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

By the love that thou didst ever
To thy Pontiff-Father bear,
Pray that no base act may sever
Us from Peter's loving care!
But when men would once more  lead us,
Into bonds from which Christ freed us,
Dear Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

By the Pontiff's words  of warning,
Bidding all thy sorrow cease,
Words foretelling bitter mourning
Leading unto lasting peace!
That to Jesus in our sadness
We may look for help and gladness,
Dear Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

By thy love, which knew no measure,
For the needy and the old,
Giving them the Church's treasure -
Dearer they than gems and gold!
Teaching us that alms well given
Are but treasures stored in heaven,
Dear Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

By thy fervent love for Jesus,
By thy strong and constant faith,
Or our sinful burdens ease us!
Help us at the hour of death!
When the fears of death confound us,
When the cleansing fires surround us!
Dear Saint Lawrence, pray for us!

Source: The Parochial Hymn Book 1881

Far from the world, far from delight,
Distinguishing not day from night ;
Vowed to one sacrifice of all
The happy things, that men befall ;
Pleading one sacrifice, before
Whom sun and sea and wind adore;
Far from earth's comfort, far away,
We cry to God, we cry and pray
For men, who have the common day.

Dance, merry world! and sing: but we.
Hearing, remember Calvary:
Get gold, and thrive you ! but the sun
Once paled ; and the centurion
Said : This dead man was Gods own Son,
Think you, we shrink from common toil,
Works of the mart, works of the soil ;
That, prisoners of strong despair,
We breathe this melancholy air;
Forgetting the dear calls of race,
And bonds of house, and ties of place;
That, cowards, from the field we turn.
And heavenward, in our weakness, yearn?
Unjust! unkind! while you despise
Our lonely years, our mournful cries:
You are the happier for our prayer;

The guerdon of our souls, you share.
Not in such feebleness of heart,
We play our solitary part;
Not fugitives of battle, we
Hide from the world, and let things be:
But rather, looking over earth,
Between the bounds of death and birth ;
And sad at heart, for sorrow and sin.

We wondered, where might help begin.
And on our wonder came God's choice,
A sudden light, a clarion voice,
Clearing the dark, and sounding clear :
And we obeyed: behold us, here!
In prison bound, but with your chains:
Sufferers, but of alien pains.

Merry the world, and thrives apace.
Each in his customary place:
Sailors upon the carrying sea.
Shepherds upon the pasture lea,
And merchants of the town ; and they,
Who march to death, the fighting way;
And there are lovers in the spring.
With those, who dance, and those, who sing:
The commonwealth of every day.
Eastward and westward, far away.
Once the sun paled; once cried aloud
The Roman, from beneath the cloud:
This day the Son of God is dead!
Yet heed men, what the Roman said?
They heed not : we then heed for them,

The mindless of Jerusalem ;
Careless, they live and die : but we
Care, in their stead, for Calvary.
O joyous men and women! strong,
To urge the wheel of life along.
With strenuous arm, and cheerful strain,
And wisdom of laborious brain:
We give our life, our heart, our breath,
That you may live to conquer death;
That, past your tomb, with souls in health,
Joy may be yours, and blessed wealth;
Through vigils of the painful night.
Our spirits with your tempters fight:
For you, for you, we live alone.
Where no joy comes, where cold winds moan:
Nor friends have we, nor have we foes ;
Our Queen is of the lonely Snows.
Ah! and sometimes, our prayers between.
Come sudden thoughts of what hath been :
Dreams! And from dreams, once more we fall
To prayer : God save, Christ keep, them all.
And thou, who knowest not these things,
Hearken, what news our message brings!
Our toils, thy joy of life forgot:
Our lives of prayer forget thee not.

Source: Dreams and Images: An Anthology of Catholic Poets by Joyce Kilmer (Boni and Liveright, 1917) p109