|Please click here to start MIDI (Melody Only)|
O Christ, Thy guilty people spare:
For, kneeling at Thy gracious throne,
The Virgin Mother pours her prayer,
Imploring pardon for her own.
Ye angels happy evermore,
Who in your circles nine ascend,
As ye have guarded us before,
So still from harm our steps defend.
Ye prophets and apostles high,
Behold our penitential tears,
And plead for us when death is nigh
And our all-seraching Judge appears.
Ye martyrs all, a purple band,
Confessors too, a white-robed train,
Oh, call us to our native land,
From this our exile back again.
And all ye choirs of virgins chaste,
Receive us to the realm above,
Where hermits old from desert waste
Unite to praise the God of love.
First upload: Dec 5, 2004