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CXVIII. FOR THE SAME IN TRAVAIL.

Jesus, Son of Mary, hear
Our help-imploring cry,
Lord of life and death, appear
With Thy salvation nigh:
God of grace and boundless power,
And never-failing faithfulness,
Bring her through the torturing hour,
And bid her live in peace.
Caught as in the toils of hell,
Thine own with pity see:
Nature's strength and spirits fail
If unrenew'd by Thee:
Ere the grisly king devour,
Our Refuge in extreme distress,
Bring her through the torturing hour,
And bid her live in peace.
By the travail of Thy soul,
Thy more than mortal pain,
All her fears of death control,
Her fainting heart sustain:

143

Streams of consolation shower
On one Thy love delights to bless;
Bring her through the torturing hour,
And bid her live in peace.
Bid her live in peace Divine,
In holiness and love,
Witnessing that power of Thine
Which hides her life above:
Speak the direful conflict o'er,
Thou God whose mercies never cease,
Now conclude the torturing hour,
And bid her live in peace.