For a Time of Pestilence - Ephrem the Syrian

The Church is desolate and sits mournfully

For no one enters or departs; 

Thy decree hath destroyed them! 

And the priests groan in the holy place, 

With loud sighs for their companions 

Who have departed from them for ever! 

Howl, old age and weep! 

For already is snapped in sunder 

The staff on which thou leanedst; — 

Who shall hold and raise thee up? 

For Death hath broken it and caused it to decay,

He hath entered and placed it in the tomb! 

Who would not weep, my brethren,

With bitter wailings? 

Who does not suffer and groan and sigh, 

For the sword which is in our streets? 

Young men, beloved and comely. 

Wither suddenly like flowers! 

Oh God, the Father, who hath fashioned us 

For His great glory. 

Now deliver us and in Thy pity let us live! 

Let not Thy fair image perish 

And become a derision to its enemies, 

But pardon us and save our lives! 

No deaths are so grievous 

As the evil death of the wicked man; 

His iniquity addeth to the burning. 

And the flame can not be quenched; 

Hope and escape are cut off. — 

Save us from it, and in Thy grace let us live! 

Confess us and put us not to shame 

Before the nations who know Thee not; 

Since we have not declined from Thy law, 

Nor from the precepts of Thy doctrine. 

Preserve us from the judgment which hasteneth. 

And from the wrath which threatens us.

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Ephrem the Syrian [Ephraem Syrus] (c. 306 – 373) Turkey

Translated by Rev. Henry Burgess

Source: Select Metrical Hymns and Homilies of Ephraem Syrus, Henry Burgess, Robert B. Blackader, 1853