The charm which God set for Himself when the divinity within Him was darkened.
A charm to be said by the cross when the night is black and the soul is heavy with sorrow.
A charm to be said at sunrise, with the hands on the breast, when the eyes are red with weeping, and the madness of grief is strong. A charm that has no words, only the silent prayer.
Lady Wilde.
[THE KEENING OF MARY]
"O Peter, O Apostle, hast thou seen my bright love?"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"I saw Him even now in the midst of His foemen,"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"Come hither, two Marys, till ye keen my bright love."
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"What have we to keen if we keen not His bones?"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"Who is that stately man on the tree of the Passion?"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"Dost thou not know thy Son, O Mother?"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"And is that the little Son I carried nine months?
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"And is that the little Son that was born in the stable?
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"And is that the little Son that was nursed at Mary's breast?"
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!
"Hush, O Mother, and be not sorrowful."
M'óchón agus m'óchón, Ó!