173. For the Dead

{315} (A Hymn.)

HELP, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made,
       The souls to Thee so dear,
In prison for the debt unpaid
       Of sins committed here.

Those holy souls, they suffer on,
       Resign'd in heart and will,
Until Thy high behest is done,
       And justice has its fill.
For daily falls, for pardon'd crime,
       They joy to undergo
The shadow of Thy cross sublime,
       The remnant of Thy woe.

Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made,
       The souls to Thee so dear,
In prison for the debt unpaid
       Of sins committed here. {316}

Oh, by their patience of delay,
       Their hope amid their pain,
Their sacred zeal to burn away
       Disfigurement and stain;
Oh, by their fire of love, not less
       In keenness than the flame,
Oh, by their very helplessness,
       Oh, by Thy own great Name,

Good Jesu, help! sweet Jesu, aid
       The souls to Thee most dear,
In prison for the debt unpaid
       Of sins committed here.

The Oratory
.
1857.

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Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
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