Molitva u čast Svetoj Filomeni

O Sveta Filomeno, ljubljena kćeri Nebeske Kraljice. Majka se Tvoja raduje ljepoti Tvojoj, hvali se milošću snage Tvoje i veseli se palmama i vijencima koje Ti, natječući se nude svi narodi! O Sveta Filomeno, narodi Ti kliču zbog Tvojih stalnih dobročinstava i Tvog imena koje oživljuje u dušama najslađu nadu. ljubljena svetice, pokaži svoju moć i dođi nam u pomoć. O plemenita djevice i hrabra mučenice, učini osobito to da, dok razmišljamo o otajstvima vjere, poput Tebe ostanemo vjerni Isusu Kristu. Amen.

Molitva Svetoj Filomeni za posebnu milost

Djevice Gospodinu odana, mučenice velika, Sveta Filomeno. Radujem se zbog slave Tvoje i veselim se gledajući koliko slaviš Boga, posebno čudima Tvojim, učinjenim siromašnima i dobrima. Molim Božansko Veličanstvo da proširi slavu Svog imena, da pokaže Tvoju snagu i umnoži Tvoje štovanje među svojima vjernima. O dobra, o draga Sveta Filomeno, evo me pred tobom, puna jada ali još uvjek puna povjerenja, obraćam se dobrostivosti Tvojoj, blagoslovi me, pomozi mi u svakoj prigodi i ne puštaj me nikada! O, svetice velika i ljubljena, zaštiti me od neprijatelja spasenja i moli uvjek za mene Isusa Krista, da mi udijeli milost na ovome svijetu (spomenite svoju potrebu) a zatim u vječnosti. Amen. Oče Naš, Zdravo Marijo, Slava Ocu.

Pjesma o Svetoj Filomeni-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Santa Filomena

Engleski i Hrvatski prijevod

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Feb. 27, 1807-
Mar. 24, 1882)

Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,
Whene'er is spoken a noble thought,
Our hearts, in glad surprise,
To higher levels rise.
The tidal wave of deeper souls
Into our inmost being rolls,
And lifts us unawares
Out of all meaner cares.
Honour to those whose words or deeds
Thus help us in our daily needs,
And by their overflow
Raise us from what is low!
Thus thought I, as by night I read
Of the great army of the dead,
The trenches cold and damp,
The starved and frozen camp, -
The wounded from the battle-plain,
In dreary hospitals of pain,
The cheerless corridors,
The cold and stony floors.
Lo! in that house of misery
A lady with a lamp I see
Pass through the glimmering gloom,
And flit from room to room.
And slow, as in a dream of bliss,
The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
Her shadow, as it falls
Upon the darkening walls.
As if a door in heaven should be
Opened and then closed suddenly,
The vision came and went,
The light shone and was spent.
On England's annals, through the long
Hereafter of her speech and song,
That light its rays shall cast
From portals of the past.
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand
In the great history of the land,
A noble type of good,
Heroic womanhood.
Nor even shall be wanting here
The palm, the lily, and the spear,
The symbols that of yore
Saint Filomena bore.