O, Great Saint Jude
Whose traitor-sounding name
By man’s perceptions crude
Confused is with the obloquy and blame
Of him who to our gain and his disaster
Betrayed so kind a Master;
We, seeing more clear, concede thee what was thine;
The glory of a place beside that board
Whereon, awaiting their predestined hour
Of bowing to all-Good, all-Love, all-Power,
Lay bread and wine
Before that Host adored
Through whom our hope and our salvation came;
Thy kinsman, and our Lord.
O, thou, the sad day done,
Taking the homeward road
To thine obscure abode
In the long shadows of the setting sun,
To meet the frightened crowd
Sobbing aloud,
With thine Aunt Mary silent in their midst,
Leaning upon
The faithful arm of John;
Saint Jude, who didst
} Join them in unbelief
And utter agony of grief,
And in a voice of pain and terror cried:
“Saw’st thou–and thou–
Saws’t thou indeed my Cousin crucified?”
O, by the memory of that hour of birth
Wherein Heaven’s door opened to us of earth,
Befriend–befriend us now!