I long so much for the words of the prayer that our Lord Jesus taught us: Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven to come true. Now! How long, O Lord? For consolation I listen to Miserere mei (Psalm 50/51) and sing the beautiful Advent hymn, Rorate Caeli to myself all the time and for a truly beautiful polyphonic setting by William Byrd of the first verse (Ne irascaris Domine) listen to Voces8.
I'm in Texas. This young woman is flying the nest--I'm so proud of her.
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Roráte caéli désuper, et núbes plúant jústum.
| Drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness. |
Ne irascáris Dómine, ne ultra memíneris iniquitátis: ecce cívitas Sáncti fácta est desérta: Síon desérta fácta est, Jerúsalem desoláta est: dómus sanctificatiónis túæ et glóriæ túæ, ubi laudavérunt te pátres nóstri. | Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: thy holy city is a wilderness, Sion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation: our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers praised thee. |
Peccávimus, et fácti súmus tamquam immúndus nos, et cecídimus quasi fólium univérsi: et iniquitátes nóstræ quasi véntus abstulérunt nos: abscondísti faciem túam a nóbis, et allisísti nos in mánu iniquitátis nóstræ. | We have sinned, and are as an unclean thing, and we all do fade as a leaf: and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away: thou hast hid thy face from us: and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities. |
Víde Dómine afflictiónem pópuli túi, et mítte quem missúrus es: emítte Agnum dominatórem térræ, de Pétra desérti ad móntem fíliæ Síon: ut áuferat ípse júgum captivitátis nóstræ. | Behold, O Lord, the affliction of thy people, and send forth him whom thou wilt send; send forth the Lamb, the ruler of the earth, from Petra of the desert to the mount of the daughter of Sion: that he may take away the yoke of our captivity. |
Vos testes mei, dicit Dóminus, et servus meus quem elégi; ut sciátis, et credátis mihi: ego sum, ego sum Dóminus, et non est absque me salvátor: et non est qui de manu mea éruat. | Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen; that ye may know me and believe me: I, even I, am the Lord, and beside me there is no Saviour: and there is none that can deliver out of my hand. |
Consolámini, consolámini, pópule méus: cito véniet sálus túa: quare mæróre consúmeris, quia innovávit te dólor? Salvábo te, nóli timére, égo enim sum Dóminus Déus túus, Sánctus Israël, Redémptor túus. | Comfort ye, comfort ye my people; my salvation shall not tarry: why wilt thou waste away in sadness? why hath sorrow seized thee? Fear not, for I will save thee: For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Redeemer. |
3 comments:
Here's to salvation, for the earthlings are weary, indeed.
Wishing you a beautiful celebration, Vijaya and family
Yes, "How long, O Lord?" But we are sustained by His promise until we join Him in Heaven.
Wishing you and your family a beautiful Christmas, Vijaya, and a new year blessed with peace, good health, and much happiness.
Thank you Mirka and Sarah. Indeed we have the promise of salvation! Deo gratias!
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