Thursday, February 22, 2007

Cantata on the Passion (on the feast of the Chair of St Peter, comm of St Paul)

I was flipping through one of my favourite books on the Passion and Death of Jesus Christ by St Alphonsus Ligouri and I found this beautiful beautiful beautiful cantata(how often do you hear of a cantata on the Passion?) on the Passion by the Saint himself! It's just a little sad that I don't have the music for it ... but, here are the verses, and if such a word exists, what "beautiful-ness"!! :) Deo gratias.

Cantata on the Passion:
The Soul and the Redeemer

The original text of this cantata was discovered in London in the year 1859, the words and music being by St. Alphonsus, who, we are assured, composed them in 1760, with corrections made with his own hand. We here give the entire text, such as has been published in London by M.J. Philip. -Ed. (The original if I am not wrong, is in Italian)

The Soul

Tell me, thou judge iniquitous, ah! tell me why
Thou didst so oft my Saviour's innocence proclaim,
And yet, at length, condemn him to a death of shame,
Like vilest criminal upon a cross to die?
Of what avail the barb'rous scourges, cruel blows,
If, in thy heart, thou didst his future death decree?
Why not at once have doom'd him to the bitter tree
When the first cry of hate from surging crowds arose?
Since well thou knewest thou wouldst sentence him to die,
Why not at once make known his cruel destiny?
But what do I behold? an angry crowd draws near,
Confused cries are heard, and threat'ning groans resound;
Nearer still and nearer there comes a thrilling sound.
What is this clam'rous mysic breaking on mine ear?
Ah! it is the trumpet, whose shrill discordant breath
Proclaims aloud the sentence of my Saviour's death.
Now, alas! I see him: along the rugged road
Painfully he's toiling with tott'ring step and slow,
Wounded, sore, and bleeding, he bears the heavy load
Laid upon his shoulder by his relentless foe.
At ev'ry painful step he makes
Fresh blood-drops mark the way he takes.
A cross of wood
Upon his wounded shoulder rests;
His bruised flesh is staining it with blood:
His venerable head a mocking crown adorns;
His aching brows are pierc'd with long and cruel thorns.
'Tis Thy unfathom'd love, my dearest Lord,
That makes Thee wear this crown of mockery.
Where goest Thou, my God ador'd?

The Redeemer

I go to die for thee.

The Soul

Dear Lord, it is for me
Thou goest forth to die?
How gladly, then, would I
Lay down my life for Thee!

The Redeemer

Peace! till thy dying breath
Think on My love for thee;
After My bitter death
Forever love thou Me.
Remain, my turtle dove!
For My Heart give me thine;
My faithful one! be Mine,
And pledge Me all thy love.

The Soul

My Lord! I Thee adore,
To Thee my heart I bring.
I'm Thine, my treasur'd King,
I'm Thine for evermore!

Please pray for a recently departed SSPX priest.
More can be found out at:


Here are some interesting reading for those interested in the SSPX and on the current crisis in the Church, the awaited motu propiu etc. at:

Jesu mitis et humilis corde, Fac cor nostrum secundum cor tuum!

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