May perpetual light descending
Touch their foreheads, dark with fear—
Dark with deadly torments suffered;
Sign them with the glory near!
May they rest, O Lord, forever
In a peace that, unexpressed,
Shall bestow upon the pilgrims
Dual crowns of light and rest!
Death's weird canticle is ringing
In its supplication strong—
In its far cry to the heavens,
Couched in wild, unearthly song.
Ay, this Libera o'ercomes us,
Requiem, at once, and dirge—
Makes this life with life immortal
In our consciousness to merge.
FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY.
ANONYMOUS.
Ye souls of the faithful who sleep in the Lord,
But as yet are shut out from your final reward,
Oh! would I could lend you assistance to fly
From your prison below to your palace on high!
O Father of Mercies! Thine anger withhold,
These works of Thy hand in Thy mercy behold;
Too oft from Thy path they have wandered aside,
But Thee, their Creator, they never denied.
O tender Redeemer, their misery see,
Deliver the souls that were ransomed by Thee;
Behold how they love Thee, despite all their pain;
Restore them, restore them to favor again!
O Spirit of Grace! O Consoler divine!
See how for Thy presence they longingly pine;
Ah! then, to enliven their sadness descend,
And fill them with peace and with joy in the end!