Electa
When cares press heavy on the heart,
And all is gloom around,
Where shall we fix the heavy eye,
In all this mortal bound?
What emblem has the mourner here?
What love to warm, what light to cheer?

Thine, true Electa, thine which tells
Of His distress and thine!
The cross upon whose rugged limbs
Ye both did bleed and pine!
The cross by heavenly wisdom given
To raise our thoughts from earth to heaven..

Dying, as Jesus died, upon the tree -
Was ever worthier sacrifice than hers?
Sacred the Cross, the nail, the thorn; for He
Who suffered has redeemed them from the
curse;
Just as she passed to blessed eternity
She pled forgiveness to her murderers.


From Macoy's 1866 Ritual