Once More the Solemn Season Calls

Once more the so­lemn sea­son calls

A ho­ly fast to keep;

And now with­in the tem­ple walls

Let priest and peo­ple weep.

But vain all out­ward sign of grief

And vain the form of pray­er

Unless the heart im­plore relief

And pe­ni­tence be there.

We smite the breast

we weep in vain

In vain in ash­es mourn

Unless with pe­ni­ten­tial pain

The smit­ten soul be torn.

In sor­row true then let us pray

To our of­fend­ed God

From us to turn His wrath away

And stay the up­lift­ed rod.

O God

our judge and fa­ther

deign

To spare the bruis­èd reed;

We pray for time to turn again

For grace to turn in­deed.

Blest Three in One to Thee we bow;

Vouchsafe us

in Thy love

To ga­ther from these fasts be­low

Immortal fruit ab­ove.