You thrill as his pulses dwindle, You brighten and warm as he bleeds, With insatiable eyes that kindle And insatiable mouth that feeds. Your hands nailed love to the tree, You stript him, scourged him with rods, And drowned him deep in the sea That hides the dead and their gods. And for all this, die will he not; There is no man sees him but I; You came and went and forgot; I hope he will some day die. A LITANY [Greek: en ouranô phaennas krypsô par' hymin augas, mias pro nyktos hepta nyktas hexete, k.t.l.] _Anth. Sac._ FIRST ANTIPHONE All the bright lights of heaven I will make dark over thee; One night shall be as seven That its skirts may cover thee; I will send on thy strong men a sword, On thy remnant a rod; Ye shall know that I am the Lord, Saith the Lord God. SECOND ANTIPHONE All the bright lights of heaven Thou hast made dark over us; One night has been as seven That its skirt might cover us; Thou hast sent on our strong men a sword, On our remnant a rod; We know that thou art the Lord, O Lord our God. THIRD ANTIPHONE As the tresses and wings of the wind Are scattered and shaken, I will scatter all them that have sinned, There shall none be taken; As a sower that scattereth seed, So will I scatter them; As one breaketh and shattereth a reed, I will break and shatter them. FOURTH ANTIPHONE As the wings and the locks of the wind Are scattered and shaken, Thou hast scattered all them that have sinned, There was no man taken; As a sower that scattereth seed, So hast thou scattered us; As one breaketh and shattereth a reed, Thou hast broken and shattered us. FIFTH ANTIPHONE From all thy lovers that love thee I God will sunder thee; I will make darkness above thee, And thick darkness under thee; Before me goeth a light, Behind me a sword; Shall a remnant find grace in my sight? I am the Lord. SIXTH ANTIPHONE From all our lovers that love us Thou God didst sunder us; Thou madest darkness above us, And thick darkness under us; Thou hast kindled thy wrath for a light, And made ready thy sword; Let a remnant find grace in thy sight, We beseech thee, O Lord. SEVENTH ANTIPHONE Wilt thou bring fine gold for a payment For sins on this wise? For the glittering of raiment And the shining of eyes, For the painting of faces And the sundering of trust, For the sins of thine high places And delight of thy lust? For your high things ye shall have lowly, Lamentation for song; For, behold, I God am holy, I the Lord am strong; Ye shall seek me and shall not reach me Till the wine-press be trod; In that hour ye shall turn and beseech me, Saith the Lord God. EIGHTH ANTIPHONE