Redemptive Scourge

What have we done to You By abysmal oblivion, Ill-will to Your saving Law? Meek Master... Ill-treated by us all... Clothed in the garb of hellcats, Forcing with rage and fury Satanic blows... O bitter savage scourging; Great welts and livid tumors Concealing Heavenly Flesh; Blood Divine running down In streams to pavement; Pristine, Virginal Flesh Scattered in pieces About the pavement... Bones laid bare larger Than a palm of the hand! Sacred, disfigured Countenance... Wounded, swollen, Blinded, spat at... O unwounded Not a single spot! Heart most merciful Enduring sore insults... Tender Mother bearing Every single throe O aggrieved Mother, Pierced, riveted With the sword Of relentless And undying woe... (For Our Savior & Holy Mother)