Recta Ratio

October Prayer
Mother, at thy feet is kneeling
One who loves thee--it's thy child
Who has sighed so oft' to see thee;
Bless me, Mother, Mother mild.
And when storms are raging round me,
And when tempests hover near,
In thy own sweet arms enfold me;
Shield me, Mother, Mother dear.
Mother, when my Savior calls me
From this world of sin and strife,
Clasp me upon thy spotless bosom;
Let me bid farewell to life.
Plead for me when Jesus judges,
Answer for me when He asks
How I've spent so many moments,
How performed so many tasks.
Tell Him I was weak and feeble;
Yes, that I so often strayed
From the thorny path of virtue
To the one with roses laid.
Yet, O Mother, tell my Jesus
That I loved Him fond and true;
And, O Mother, dearest Mother,
Tell Him I belong to you.
Then He'll place me (yes, I feel it)
Close to thee, O Mother dear;
Then I'll praise and bless and thank thee
Thru eternity's long years.

Catholic Telegraph Register
October 4, 1957

Labels: Our Blessed Lady

Prayer by Saint Alphonsus de Liguori:

O my dear Redeemer! O Lamb of God, who hast come into the world, not to punish, but to pardon sins; ah! pardon me immediately: pardon me before the arrival of that day on which Thou wilt judge me. Then the sight of Thee, O divine Lamb! who hast borne with me so long and with so much patience, should, if I were lost, be the hell of hells. Ah! I say again, pardon me soon; draw me by Thy merciful hand from the abyss into which my sins have cast me. I repent, O sovereign Good! of having offended Thee, and of having offended Thee so grievously. I love Thee, my judge, who hast loved me so tenderly. Ah! through the merits of Thy death, grant me a great grace, which will transform me from a sinner into a saint. Thou hast promised to hear all who pray to Thee. Cry to me and I will hear thee. I do not. ask earthly goods: I ask Thy grace. Thy love, and nothing else. Hear me, O my Jesus! through the love which Thou didst bear to me when Thou didst die on the cross for my salvation. My beloved Judge, I am a criminal, but a criminal who loves Thee more than he does himself. Have pity on me. Mary, my Mother! come to my aid, and come immediately: now is the time that thou canst assist me. Thou didst not abandon me when I lived in forgetfulness of thee and of God; come to my relief now that I am resolved to serve thee always. and never more to offend my Lord. O Mary! after Jesus, thou art my hope.

Labels: Friday At the Foot Of the Cross

Saint Jude, Apostle and Martyr, has become one of the most popular of saints, due to his patronage of lost causes. When all else seems lost and hopeless, bring the matter to Saint Jude. He is eager to expand his patronage and his list of earthly clients.



See Catholic Tradition's page on devotions to gain the intercession of Saint Jude.

Labels: Our Saintly Brethern

The Battle of Agincourt was fought upon this day, an anniversary those of us whose childhoods were formed around anniversaries of deeds of heroics are inclined to remember.



WESTMORELAND.
O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!
KING.
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.





Maddy Prior and June Tabor, Agincourt Carol

Labels: Annual Cycles