Sunday, March 6, 2011

Poem: Crux Fideles

O faithful Cross, incomparable Tree, the nobles of all;
no forest hath ere put forth the likes of thing own leaves,
they flowers they fruits; gentle word with a gentle nail,
to support so gentle a burden.

The Creator looked on sadly as the first man, our forefather,
was deceived,
and as he fell into the snare of death, taking a bit of lethal fruit;
it was then that God chose this blessed piece of wood
to destroy the other tree's curse.

Equal and eternal glory to the Father and to the Son and to the
Illustrious Paraclete, the Blessed Trinity whose divine grace
redeems and conserves us always. Amen.