Now is the noon of Sorrow's night: High in His patience, as their spite, 125 Lo, the faint Lamb, with weary limb Beares that huge tree which must bear Him! That fatall plant, so great of fame For fruit of sorrow and of shame, Shall swell with both, for Him, and mix 130 All woes into one crucifix. Is tortur'd thirst itselfe too sweet a cup? Gall, and more bitter mocks, shall make it vp. Are nailes, blunt pens of superficiall smart? Contempt and scorn can send sure wounds to search the inmost heart. 135 _The Antiphona._ O deare and sweet dispute 'Twixt Death's and Loue's farr different fruit! Different as farr As antidotes and poysons are. By that first fatall tree 140 Both life and liberty Were sold and slain; By this they both look vp, and liue again. _The Versicle._ Lo, we adore Thee, Dread Lamb! and bow thus low before Thee. 145 _The Responsor._ 'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse, Thou hast sau'd the World from certain losse. _The Prayer._ O Lord IESV-CHRIST, Son of the liuing God! interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death, Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy 150 iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy; vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners, life and glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest 155 with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen. THE NINTH. _The Versicle._ Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign, _The Responsor._ Defend vs from our foes and Thine. _V._ Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord. 160 _R._ And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. _V._ O God, make speed to save me! _R._ O Lord, make hast to help me! _V._ Glory be to, &c. _R._ As it was in the, &c. 165 THE HYMN. The ninth with awfull horror hearkened to those groanes Which taught attention eu'n to rocks and stones. Hear, Father, hear! Thy Lamb (at last) complaines Of some more painfull thing then all His paines. Then bowes His all-obedient head, and dyes 170 His own lou's and our sins' GREAT SACRIFICE. The sun saw that, and would haue seen no more; The center shook: her vselesse veil th' inglorious Temple tore. _The Antiphona._ O strange, mysterious strife Of open Death and hidden Life! 175 When on the crosse my King did bleed, Life seem'd to dy, Death dy'd indeed.[26] _The Versicle._ Lo, we adore Thee, Dread Lamb! and fall Thus low before Thee. 180