For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.
EDITED TO ADD:
From The Ballad of the White Horse, by G.K. Chesterton:
"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher.
"Night shall be thrice night over you,
And heaven an iron cope.
Do you have joy without a cause,
Yea, faith without a hope?"