NICOLAS
Persecution sprang upon our church
and stilled its voice
Eight barren years it stifled under Roman rule:
And I lay bound
condemned to celebrate my lonely sacrament with
prison bread
while wolves ran loose among my flock.
O man! The world is set for you as for a king!
Paradise is yours in loveliness
The stars shine down for you for you
the angels sing
yet you prefer your wilderness
You hug the rack of self
embrace the lash of sin
pour your treasures out to bribe distress
You build your temples fair without and foul within:
You cultivate your wilderness
Yet Christ is yours, yours!
For you he lived and died
God in mercy gave his Son
to bless you all, to bring you life
and Him you crucified
to desecrate your wilderness
Turn, turn away from sin! Ah!
Bow down your hard and stubborn hearts!
Confess, confess yourselves to Him in penitence
and humbly vow your lives to Him, to holiness.