5. Mother, fount whence love flows truest, Let me know the pain thou knewest, Let me weep as thou hast wept; Love divine within me burning, That diviner love returning, May thy Son this heart accept. 6. Sancta mater, istud agas, Crucifixi fige plagas Cordi meo valide; Tui nati vulnerati, Tam dignati pro me pati, Poenas mecum divide. 6. Mother, if my prayer be granted, Those five wounds of his implanted In my breast I fain would see; Love exceeding hangs there bleeding, My cause pleading, my love needing— Bid him share his cross with me. 7. Fac me vere tecum flere, Crucifixo condolere, Donec ego vixero; Iuxta crucem tecum stare, Te libenter sociare In planctu desidero. 7. Till life fails, I would not fail him, Still remember, still bewail him, Born thy Son, and crucified; By the cross my vigil keeping I would spend those hours of weeping, Queen of sorrows, at thy side. 8. Virgo virginum praeclara, Mihi iam non sis amara, Fac me tecum plangere; Fac, ut portem Christi mortem, Passionis fac consortem Et plagas recolere. 8. Virgin, boast of all creation, Heed my tears, nor consolation In thy bitterness repel; At thy side his livery wearing, His cross bearing, his death sharing, Of these wounds the beads I’ll tell. 9. Fac me plagis vulnerari, Cruce hac inebriari, Et cruore filii; Inflammatus et accensus, Per te, virgo, sim defensus In die iudicii. 9. Wounds of Christ, in spirit bruise me, Chalice of his blood, bemuse me, Cross of Christ, be thou my stay! Lest I burn in fires unending, Sinless Maid, my cause befriending, Shield me at the judgement day! 10. Fac me cruce custodiri, Morte Christi praemuniri, Confoveri gratia. Quando corpus morietur, Fac, ut animae donetur Paradisi gloria. 10. Jesus, when earth’s shadows leave me, Through thy Mother’s prayers receive me With the palm of victory; When my body lies forsaken Let my ransomed soul awaken Safe, in Paradise, with thee. Tr. Ronald A. Knox (_Westminster Hymnal_, Burns, Oates & Washbourne, London, 1940, no. 37. Quoted by permission of publishers.) XVII. _Salve, festa dies_ (Sarum Processional) 1. Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis aevo, Qua Deus infernum vicit et astra tenet. 1. Hail thee, Festival Day! blest day that art hallowed forever; Day wherein Christ arose, breaking the kingdom of death. 2. Ecce, renascentis testatur gratia mundi omnia cum Domino dona redisse suo. 2. Lo, the fair beauty of earth, from the death of winter arising, Every good gift of the year now with its Master returns. 3. Qui crucifixus erat, Deus ecce per omnia regnat, Dantque creatori cuncta creata precem. 3. He who was nailed to the cross is God and the ruler of all things; All things created on earth worship the maker of all.