Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive;The twelve days of Christmas and
Deming's fourteen hour war on drugs.
Three enemas, two fingers checking...one
Didst the dying thief receive;
Thence doth hope within me live.
Worthless are my prayers, I know,
Yet, oh! cause me not to go
Into everlasting woe.
Severed from the guilty band,
Make me with Thy sheep to stand,
Placing me on Thy right hand.
When the cursed in anguish flee
Into flames of misery,
With the blest then call Thou me.
Suppliant in the dust I lie;
My heart a cinder, crushed and dry;
Help me, Lord, when death is nigh.
Full of tears, and full of dread,
Is the day that wakes the dead,
Calling all, with solemn blast,
From the ashes of the past,
Lord of mercy, Jesus blest,
Grant the faithful light and rest.