April 8

Holy Saturday

I am not moved to love Thee, O my Lord,

By any longing for Thy Promised Land;

Nor by the fear of hell am I unmanned

To cease from my transgressing deed or word.

‘Tis Thou Thyself dost move me, — Thy blood poured

Upon the cross from nailed foot and hand;

And all the wounds that did Thy body brand;

And all Thy shame and bitter death’s award.

Yea, to Thy heart am I so deeply stirred

That I would love Thee were no heaven on high,

That I would fear, were hell a tale absurd!

Such my desire, all questioning grows vain;

Though hope deny me hope I still should sigh,

And as my love is now, it should remain.

-To Christ Crucified (16th or 17th C.),

Translated from the Spanish by Thomas Walsh