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There is the Song of Moses, the Canticle of Zachary, the Miserere which is the 50th Psalm you read and chant regularly in your church the Lord's Prayer in silence; and then all is darkness and distress what the Church was when our Lord suffered, what the whole world is now except His Church." "If you will permit me," said Lothair, "I will accompany you to the Tenebrae."
He struggled for the theatric gesture and found himself shivering at Rachel's side, his arm clinging about her shoulders. Lord, what a jest! After the moment they had lived through, to stand round-eyed and blubbering before the gingerbread vision of joys behind a lighted window. The whine of a barrel-organ. The sentimental whimpering of a street-corner Miserere.
They put into a Miserere seat the very scenes that we put into a music hall song: comic domestic scenes similar to the spilling of the beer and the hanging out of the washing. But though the gaiety of Gothic is one of its features, it also is not the secret of its unique effect. We see a domestic topsy-turvydom in many Japanese sketches.
Oh my brethren, slay me the little foxes which eat the tender grapes; your pride, anger, envy, hatred, gluttony, lust, and sloth, and bring forth worthy fruits of penance; then may you all laugh at Satan and his misshapen offspring until in very shame they fly these fens libera nos Domine." Here the leader sang: "Tu autem Domine, miserere nobis." And the whole brotherhood replied: "Deo gratias."
They soon joined the throngs that filled the vast temple of St. Peter's, to which all turn during this solemn season. After attending a service and viewing the treasures of the Cathedral, they turned their steps to the Sistine Chapel, which contains the wonderful painting of the Last Judgment by Michael Angelo. It was here that the celebrated Miserere by Allegri was performed.
Immediately after matins, Lauds or the praises of God are sung: they consist of five psalms besides the Benedictus or canticle of Zachary, to which succeeds the Miserere or 50th psalm. Some of the short prayers usually said are omitted: for the church during this season of mourning strips her liturgy as well as her altars of their usual ornaments .
I have never been able to reflect upon Laurence getting his head bumped and then gratefully apologizing to the darling shrew who did it, without a cold wind stirring my hair. And yet Laurence, and I, too, love her all the more dearly for it! Miserere, Domine! It was May when Mary Virginia came back to Appleboro.
In Dusseldorf eighteen men and boys, surprised at their singing of Prime in the church of Saint Laurence, had been cast down one by one into the city-sewer, each chanting as he vanished: "Christi Fili Dei vivi miserere nobis," and from the darkness had come up the same broken song till it was silenced with stones. Meanwhile, the German prisons were thronged with the first batches of recusants.
Den Mathurin, as he go away to take off his robes, he say to himself: 'Miserere mei Deus! miserere mei Deus! "So dat is de ting dat Mathurin do to save de patriots from de bullets. Ver' well, de men dey go free, and when de Governor at Quebec he hear de truth, he say it is all right. Also de English soldier die in peace and happy, becos' he tink his sins are forgive.
When the sun was vertical nobody stirred; when the bluish shadows began to creep out over baked sidewalks, broadening to a strip of superheated shade, a few stirred abroad in the deserted streets; here a policeman, thin blue summer tunic open, helmet in hand, swabbing the sweat from forehead and neck; there a white uniformed street sweeper dragging his rubber-edged mop or a section of wet hose; perhaps a haggard peddler of lemonade making for the Park wall around the Metropolitan Museum where, a little later, the East Side would venture out to sit on the benches, or the great electric tourists' busses would halt to dump out a living cargo perhaps only the bent figure of a woman, very shabby, very old, dragging her ancient bones along the silent splendour of Fifth Avenue, and peering about the gutters for something she never finds always peering, always mumbling the endless, wordless, soundless miserere of the poor.
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