PRAYER TO THE FATHER OF HEAVEN
O RADIANT Luminary of light interminable,
Celestial Father, potential God of might,
Of heaven and earth O Lord incomparable,
Of all perfections the essential most perfite!
O Maker of mankind, that formed day and night,
Whose power imperial comprehendeth every place!
Mine heart, my mind, my thought, my whole delight
Is, after this life, to see thy glorious face:
Whose magnificence is incomprehensible,
All arguments of reason which far doth exceed, 10
Whose Deity doubtless is indivisible,
From whom all goodness and virtue doth proceed;
Of thy support all creatures have need:
Assist me, good Lord, and grant me of thy grace,
To live to thy pleasure in word, thought, and deed,
And, after this life, to see thy glorious Face.
TO THE SECOND PERSON
O BENIGN Jesu, my sovereign Lord and King,
The only Son of God by filiation,
The Second Person without a beginning,
Both God and man our faith maketh plain relation,
Mary thy mother, by way of incarnation,
Whose glorious passion our souls doth revive!
Again all bodily and ghostly tribulation
Defend me with thy piteous wounds five.<1>
O peerless Prince, pained to the death,
Ruefully rent, thy body wan and blo, 10
For my redemption gave up thy vital breath,
Was never sorrow like to thy deadly woe!
Grant me, out of this world when I shall go,
Thine endless mercy for my preservative:
Against the world, the flesh, the devil also,
Defend me with thy piteous wounds five.
TO THE HOLY GHOST
O FIERY fervence, inflamed with all grace,
Enkindling hearts with brands charitable,
The endless reward of pleasure and solace,
To the Father and the Son thou are communicable
In unitate<2> which is inseparable!
O water of life, O well of consolation!
Against all suggestions deadly and damnable
Rescue me, good Lord, by your preservation:
To whom is appropried the Holy Ghost by name,
The Third Person, one God in Trinity, 10
Of perfite love thou art the ghostly flame:
O mirror of meekness, peace, and tranquillity,
My comfort, my counsel, my perfite charity!
O water of life, O well of consolation,
Against all storms of hard adversity
Rescue me, good Lord, by thy preservation.
Quod Skelton, Laureat