Hymn 4.
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My God, without ceasing, I will tread the threshold of Your house; I who have rejected all grace, I will ask with boldness, that I may receive with confidence. R., Our hope, be our Wall!
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For if, O Lord, the earth, enriches manifold, a single grain of wheat, how then shall my prayers, be enriched by Your grace!
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Because of the voices of my children, their sighs and their groans, open to me the door of Your mercy! Make glad for their voices, the mourning of their sackcloth!
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O firstborn that wast a weaned child, and wast familiar with the children, the accurst sons of Nazareth, hearken to my lambs that have seen the wolves, for lo! They cry.
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For a flock, O my Lord, in the field, if so be it has seen the wolves, flees to the shepherd, and takes refuge under his staff, and he drives away them that would devour it.
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Your flock has seen the wolves, and lo! It cries loudly. Behold how terrified it is! Let your Cross be a staff, to drive out them that would swallow it up!
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Accept the cry of my little ones, that are altogether pure. It was He, the Infant of days, that could appease, O Lord, the Ancient of days.
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The day when the Babe came down, in the midst of the stall, the Watchers descended and proclaimed, peace — may that peace be, in all my streets for all my offspring.
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Seventy and two old men, the elders of that people, sufficed not for its breaches. The Babe it was, the Son of Mary, that gave peace on every side.
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Have mercy, O Lord, on my children! In my children call to mind Your childhood, You Who wast a child! Let them that are like Your childhood, be saved by Your grace!
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Mingled in the midst of the flock, are the cry of the innocents, and the voice of the sheep, that call on the Shepherd of all, to deliver them from all.
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There is a joy that is affliction, misery is hidden in it; there is a misery that is profit, it is a fountain of joys, in that new world.
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The happiness that my persecutor has gained, woes are hidden in it; therefore I rejoice. The wretchedness that I have gained from him, happiness is concealed for me in it.
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Who will not give praise, to Him that has begotten us, and can beget again, from the midst of evil rumours the voices of glad tidings!
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You Healer of all, have visited me in my sicknesses! Payment for Your medicines, I cannot give You, for they are priceless.
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Your mercies in richness, surpass Your medicines: they cannot be bought, they are given freely, it is for tears they are bartered.
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How, O my Master, can a desolate city, whose king is far off, and her enemy near, stand firm without aid of mercy?
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A harbour and refuge, are You at all times. When the seas covered me, Your mercy descended and drew me out. Again let Your help lay hold on me!
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Apply to my afflictions, the medicine of Your salvation, and the passion of Your help! Your sign can become, a medicine to heal all.
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I am greatly oppressed, and I hasten to complain, against him that troubles me. Let Your mercy, my Lord, take the bitterness from the cup, that my sins have mixed.
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I look on all sides, and weep that I am desolate. Very many though be my chiefs and my deliverers, one is He that has delivered me.
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My young men have fled, O Lord, and gone forth, and are like chickens, which an eagle pursues; lo! They hide in a secret place: may Your peace bring them back!
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The sound of my grape-gatherers, lo! My ears miss it, for their voices fail. Let it resound with the glad tidings, O Blessed One of Your salvation!
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A voice of terror, I have heard on my towers; as my defenders cry, while they guard my walls. Still it with the voice of peace!
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The noise of my husbandmen, shall speak peace without my walls: the shouting of my dwellers shall speak peace within my walls, that I may give peace without and within.
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Make an end, O Lord, of the mourning, of this Your pure altar, and of Your chaste priest, who stands clothed in mourning, covered over with sackcloth!
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The Church and her ministers shall give praise for Your salvation; the city and its dwellers. Be the voice of peace, O Lord, the reward of their voices!
Hymn 5.
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Cause to be heard in Your grace, the tidings of Your salvation: for an hearing has been made, a path of passage; our minds have been downtrodden, by messages of terror. R., Praises to Your victory! Glory to Your Dominion!
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Comfort with profits, though small and scanty, those that have had harvest, of hurt by their labour: at a time of profit, they have gained but loss.
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It is manifest that He has stood, portioning wrath upon earth: loss and profit in anger He divided. There are whom He has cast down of a sudden, and there are whom He has puffed up of a sudden.
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To teach us that He can, chastise in all ways; when He saw the persecutors, were terrible before my eyes, He laid me out before my children, and they my beloved chastised me.
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Lo! He taught me to fear, Himself and not man: for when there was none to smite us, His wrath gave command of a sudden, and every man stretched himself out, and chastised himself.
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In like manner that Babylonian, who struck down all kings when he was confident and hoped that there was none to smite him, God caused that by his own hands, he should strike himself down.
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His majesty and his mind, of a sudden became mad together: he rent and cast off his garments; he went forth and wandered in the desert; he drove himself out first, and then his servants drove him out.
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He showed to all kings, whom he had led captive and brought down, that not by his own power, could he have overcome: the power that struck him down, was that which punished them.
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I have stood and borne, O my Lord; the blows of my deliverers. You are able in Your grace, to make me profit by the smiters: You are able in Your justice to punish me by my helpers.
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The day when the host was bold, to come up against Samaria; their plenty and their pleasure, their treasures and their possessions, they cast away and forsook and fled. He crowned her by her persecutors.
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My beloved ones crowned me, and my deliverers healed me. Through the guilt of my dwellers, my helpers chastised me, give me drink from Your vines, of the cup of consolation!
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The grain and the vine, preserve, O my Lord, by Your grace! Be the husbandman cheered, by the vine of the grape-gatherer; be the vinedresser glad, in the grain of the husbandman!
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They are joined each to each, the grain and the grape. In the field the reapers, wine can make cheerful, in the vineyard the dressers, bread strengthens in turn.
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These two things have power, to comfort my troubles: the Trinity has power, to comfort more exceedingly; whom I will praise because of a sudden, I was delivered through grace.
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But the man whose life, is preserved through grace, if he goes away to murmur, at the loss of his goods, he is thankless for the grace, of Him who had pity on him.
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Of His own will He destroys, one thing instead of another. He destroys possession, and spares the possessor: He destroys our plants, instead of our lives.
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Let us fear to murmur, lest His own wrath be roused, and He spare the possessions, and smite the possessor; that we may learn in the end, His mercy in the beginning.
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Let us learn against whom, it is meet for us to murmur. Learn to murmur, not against the Chastener, but against your own will, that made you sin and you were punished.
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Let us put away murmuring, and turn unto prayer: for if the possessor dies, his possessions also cease for him; but while he survives, he seeks to recover his losses.
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Let consolations be multiplied, in mercy to my dwellers: let the remainder and residue, console us in the midst of wrath; and cause us to forget in the residue, the mourning of our devastation!
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Heal and increase O my Lord, the fruits Your wrath has left! They seem to me like sick ones, that have escaped in pestilence. Make me to forget in these weak ones, the suffering of the many!
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While I speak, O my Lord, I call to mind that this too is the month, when the blossom pined, and dropped off in blight, may it return to soundness, to be a consolation!
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For these escaped the pestilence, that carried off their brethren. The vines though voiceless, wept when before them, a multitude was cut down and felled, of trees that they loved.
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The company of plants, lo! The earth misses! The roots for the husbandmen, weep and cause them to weep. Their beauty had spread and gave shade, and it was torn away in one hour.
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The axe came near and struck; and struck the husbandman; the blow was on the trees, and it caused the husbandman to suffer; every axe that smote, he bore the pain of it.