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Where smote the spear with direst blow,
Thence blood and water did o'erflow:
These all our guilty stains efface,
And wash our souls with saving grace.

This, this the mystery foretold,
By David's faithful song of old:
He said to all, in mystic strain,
"From off a tree the God will reign."

O beaming tree! thy branches fair
The royal purple colours wear.
Well chosen from an honoured sort,
Those sacred members to support.

O blessed tree! who arms can show
The ransom of a world from woe!-
HIS limbs the only weight could tell
What price could ransom man from hell.

Hail, cross! our only hope sublime,
To cheer this penitential time-

[On the finding of the cross is said,
Who cheerest this high paschal time-
On the exaltation of the cross is said,
Whose triumph cheers this glorious time-]
Let grace renewed the just repay,
And wash the sinner's guilt away.

Hail, holy Trinity, whose praise
Still bids us every song upraise,
Let those, who now in patience bear
The cross on earth, thy guerdon share.

O FILII ET FILIE: FOR EASTER SUNDAY. Young men and maids, rejoice and sing! The king of heaven, the glorious king, This day from death rose triumphing. Alleluja. On Sunday morn, by break of day, Swift to the tomb wherein he lay, His dear disciples sped away. Alleluja.

And Mary Magdalen, she sped,

And James's eager mother led,

With Salome's to embalm the dead. Alleluja.

An angel rob'd in white they see,

Who saith to them all soothingly,

"The Lord is gone to Galilee." Alleluja.

And then the dear apostle John,

First to the monument came on,
For Peter he had soon outrun. Alleluja.

When the disciples met dismay'd,

Christ stood among them as they pray'd;
And "Peace be to you all," he said. Alleluja.
When Didymus had heard them tell
How Christ was risen, and what befel,
He doubted all the miracle. Alleluja.

"Oh, see my hands and feet," He cried;
"And lay thy hand upon my side,

And doubt not me, whate'er betide." Alleluja.

When Thomas thus had all explor'd-
The feet, the side, the hands ador'd,

He answering, said, " My God and Lord." Alle.

"Aye, Thomas, but more blest is he Who sees not, yet who trusts in me:" Eternal life his lot shall be. Alleluja.

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Then joy we on these festive days!
And grateful hearts to God upraise
With blessings, jubilee, and praise. Alleluja.
Let us to God our thanks renew ;-
That homage fervent, humble, true,

For all his gracious mercies due. Alleluja.

AD REGIAS AGNI DAPES, FOR EASTER.

The red sea now is past, and now
Around the Lamb's great feast we bow;
Now clothed in white and purified,
We praise our King-the Christ who died.

So great his love, that, for our good,
He bids us drink his sacred blood.
And gives us, in the mystic feast,
Himself the sacrifice and priest.

Blood sprinkled on the posts of yore
Scared death's sad angel from the door.;
The sea was parted too, and gave
To the pursuing foe a grave;

But Christ is now the pasch by whom
We triumph o'er impending doom.
Sincere and pure, we now are fed
By Christ, the pure pre-figured bread.

Hail, truest victim, truly given;
By whom the thrall of hell is riven;
Who makest death itself as nought-
By whom the joys of life are bought !
Hell now is vanquished; Christ displays
To the wide world his trophies! Gaze
On heaven laid open! while the foe,
The prince of death, is driven below.
Jesus, be thou our paschal joy!
Be thoughts of thee our sole employ !
From deadly sin, we pray thee, free
Those born again to life by thee.
To God the Father loudly sing,
And Jesus who rose triumphing,
And to the Holy Ghost upraise
For ever more melodious praise.

SALUTIS HUMANE SATOR FOR ASCENSION.

O Thou from whom salvation flows,
Dear Jesus! joy of ev'ry breast;
Redeeming all this world of woes-
Pure light, by all beholders blest :—

Whence came this wondrous act of grace
That thou shouldst bear the crimes of all?

That thou, to save a sinful race,

Sinless shouldst own death's bitter thrall?

Hell's chaos now is rent in twain;

And captive chains are burst by thee.

Triumphant Victor! rise and reign
At God's right hand eternally.

But let thy pity still look down

And heal our every care and woe: Still let thy saving help be shown

To bless and cheer us here below. Oh, lead us Thou to heaven above.

Be thou our only aim and goal.

Oh, let our tears be tears of love

Till thou, dear Saviour! crown the whole.

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS: FOR WHIT-SUNDAY.

Creating Spirit, come! controul

And visit every willing soul.

To all, by thee created, bring,

Dear Lord, each good and perfect thing.

Thee, Lord, our Comforter, we call ;
The gift of God-best gift of all;
The living fount, fire, charity

The spirit's balm: all dwells in thee.
Thine are the seven best gifts of grace.
In thee, the Father's hand we trace.
Promis'd of old, 'tis thou dost teach
All things and every form of speech.
With thy pure light, fire every sense;
Thy love through every heart dispense;
Our weak infirmities improve,

With strength and virtue from above.

Drive every foe far, far away.

Near us may peace for ever stay.

Be thou our teacher, light, and guide,
That every ill we may avoid.

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