#1 Pope Benedict clears way for Cardinal John Newman to become first English saint in 40
07-03-2009, 12:26 PM
- Join Date
- Aug 2005
Pope Benedict clears way for Cardinal John Newman to become first English saint in 40 years
Pope Benedict XVI today announced the beatification of Cardinal John Henry Newman. The declaration means that the Anglican vicar, who shocked Victorian England by converting to Catholicism, will be given the title 'Blessed'. It also puts Newman just one stage away from becoming the first English saint in about 40 years.
07-03-2009, 12:33 PM
- Join Date
- Aug 2005
The Dream of Gerontius
Cardinal Blessed St.John Henry Newman
The Dream of Gerontius is a poem written by John Henry Newman (February 21, 1801 – August 11, 1890) consisting of the prayer of a dying man, and angelic and demonic responses. It was first published in the Jesuit-run review The Month. John Henry Newman, a prominent 19th century scholar and Anglican church leader converted to Roman Catholicism, and was later appointed Cardinal.
The poem inspired an oratorio of the same name by Edward Elgar in 1900.
JESU, MARIA - I am near to death,
And Thou art calling me; I know it now.
Not by the token of this faltering breath,
This chill at heart,, this dampness on my
brow,— (Jesu, have mercy! Mary, pray for me!)
'tis this new feeling, never felt before,
(Be with me, Lord, in my extremity!)
That I am going, that I am no more.
‘Tis this strange innermost abandonment,
(Lover of souls! great God! I look to Thee,)
This emptying out of each constituent
And natural force, by which I come to be.
Pray for me, 0 my friends; a visitant
Is knocking his dire summons at my door,
The like of whom, to scare me and to daunt,
Has never, never come to me before;
‘us death,—O loving friends, your prayers!— ‘tis he!
As though my very being had given way,
As though I was no more a substance now,
And could fall back on nought to be my stay,
(Help, loving Lord! Thou my sole Refuge,
And turn no whither, but must needs decay
And drop from out the universal frame
Into that shapeless, scopeless, blank abyss,
That utter nothingness, of which I came:
This is it that has come to pass in me;
O horror! this it is, my dearest, this;
So pray for me, my friends, who have not strength to pray.
KYRIE eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie elei son.
Holy Mary, pray for him.
All holy Angels, pray for him.
Choirs of the righteous, pray for him.
Holy Abraham, pray for him.
St John Baptist, St Joseph, pray for him.
St Peter, St Paul, St Andrew, St John,
All Apostles, all Evangelists, pray for him.
All holy Disciples of the Lord, pray for him.
All holy Innocents, pray for him.
All holy Martyrs, all holy Confessors,
All holy Hermits, all holy Virgins,
All ye Saints of God, pray for him.
ROUSE thee, my fainting soul, and play the man;
And through such waning span Of life and thought as still has to be trod,
Prepare to meet thy God.
And while the storm of that bewilderment Is for a season spent,
And, ere afresh the ruin on thee fall, Use well the interval.
BE merciful, be gracious; spare him, Lord.
Be merciful, be gracious; Lord, deliver him.
From the sins that are past;
From Thy frown and Thine ire;
From the perils of dying;
From any complying
With sin, or denying
His God, or relying, On self, at the last;
From the nethermost fire;
From all that is evil;
From power of the devil;
Thy servant deliver,
For once and for ever.
By Thy birth, and by Thy Cross,
Rescue him from endless loss;
By Thy death and burial,
Save him from a final fall;
By Thy rising from the tomb, By Thy mounting up above,
By the Spirit’s gracious love,
Save him in the day of doom.
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