Talk:.NDU.MjI1NjY

Chloe, translated - 26th July 2017, 12:18am

THE PASSION [of Our Lord?]:

Dear Saviour Sweet, sweet was thy dear compassion dearly expressed in that most bitter passion, When whipped and scourged, you mildly suffered to feed one torments drunk vinegar and Gall. Suffer the Crown of Thorns impale thy brain which down thy cheeks forced showers of blood to rain, Suffered the piercing lance that like a flood forced from thy side wounded thy precious blood, Nailed on the cross more thou did suffer yet In that fierce agony and bloody sweat, Then then & then thy torments did begin Loaded with mans huge ponderous weight of sin, At which the mazed earth with horror shook Darkness possessed, the World daylight forsook, Her wanted course the Sun then changed to blood At death of him that was so wondrous good, Devils quake, hell roared with Admiration At the Great End: the power of our Salvation, No tongue, no pen, no wit of man can tell Thy Torments they exceed ye pains in hell, All for ungrateful miserable man Are not we bound to fear and praise him than, Oh yes, to spend our hours, our days and years In true repentant floods & showers of tears.