How much vinegar have I given Thee,
Given to the thirst for which Thou didst cry,
Which only Thou didst taste in agony
For its bitterness could not satisfy?
Yet in mercy profound, Divine, most just,
Even this Thou didst most humbly accept,
Loving this Adam to the very dust
Of that Garden floor on which Thou didst sweat.
Not more than one hour didst Thou ask of me
On the night of Thy sorrowful distress.
But with heavy eyes and heart grown weary,
I slept in the cold of indifference.
But again I stand by Thy Mother’s hand
And beg Thee for the love I had at first,
In hope that through her I might understand
The wound of Thy heart and Thy cry, “I thirst.”
Fr. Timothy J. Draper