10 BLESSED Father, sent by For Charity anointed thee
His mercy to dispense,
Thy hand is out o'er all the earth
Like God's own providence.
There is no grief or care of men
Thou dost not own for thine,
No broken heart Thou dost not fill
With mercy's oil and wine.
2 Dear Saint, not in the wilder
Thy fragrant virtues bloom, But in the city's crowded haunts, The alley's cheerless gloom.
O'er want and woe and pain; And she hath crown'd thee emperor
Of all her wide domain.
3 Saint of wide open arms, and heart
Capacious as a sea,
In dead of night a thousand lips
Are sweetly blessing thee
So thou belongest unto all,
And all belong to thee;
And we in him Thy pity praise,
Most Holy Trinity.
Faith of our fathers.
1 FAITH of our fathers, living still,
In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword;
O, how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene'er we hear that glorious word!
Faith of our fathers, holy Faith,
We will be true to thee till death.
2 Our fathers chain'd in prisons dark
Were still in heart and conscience free;
How sweet would be their children's fate,
If they, like them, could die for thee!
Faith of our fathers, holy Faith,
We will be true to thee till death.
3 Faith of our fathers; Mary's prayers
Shall win our country back to thee;
And through the truth that comes from God,
O, then indeed we shall be free.
Faith of our fathers, holy Faith,
We will be true to thee till death.
4 Faith of our fathers, we will love
Both friend and foe in all our strife,
And preach thee too, as love knows how,
By kindly words and virtuous life.
Faith of our fathers, holy Faith,
We will be true to thee till death.
1 THOU Crown of all the virgin choir,
That holy Mother's virgin Son,
Who is alone of womankind
The Virgin Mother both in one.
2 Encircled by Thy virgin band,
Amid the lilies Thou art found;
For Thy pure brides with lavish hand
Immortal graces scatt'ring round.
8 And still, wherever Thou dost bend
Thy lovely steps, O glorious King,
Virgins upon Thy steps attend,
And hymns to Thy high glory sing.
4 Keep us, O Purity divine,
From ev'ry least corruption free;
Our ev'ry sense from sin refine,
And purify our souls for Thee.
5 To God the Father and the Son,
All honour, glory, praise be given,
With Thee, O holy Paraclete,
Henceforth by all in earth and heaven.
O Lord of light, one glance of Thine.
1 O LORD of light, one glance of Thine,
Whose eyes the universe control,
Fills Magdalene with holy love,
And melts the ice within her soul.
Her precious ointment forth she brings,
Upon those sacred feet to pour;
She washes them with burning tears,
And with her hair she wipes them o'er.
2 Impassion'd to the cross she clings,
Nor fears beside the tomb to stay,
Of ruffian soldiers nought she recks;
For love has cast all fear away.
O Christ, Thou very Love itself;
Blest hope of man, through Thee forgiv'n;
So touch our spirits from above,
And purify our souls for heav'n.
1 FROM the highest heights of glory,
Mid the sweets of endless calm,
Mary's spirit, in its rapture,
On the earth is dropping balm.
On the bosom of the Saviour,
Like a flow'r of stainless white,
Lies the trophy of His mercy
In a blaze of heav'nly light.
2 And yet thou too once wert wandering,
Once wert soiled with darkest stains,
Who art now the fairest blossom
In the land where Jesus reigns.
Thou wert wretched, thou wert drooping,
Thou wert crushed upon the earth,
Who art greater now and grander
Than an angel in his mirth.
3 Queen of penance, Queen of fervour,
Thou art martyr too of love,
And thy likeness to thy Saviour
Makes the angels glad above.
O, how wisely hast thou chosen
For thyself the better part,
To be braided like a jewel
On thy Saviour's Sacred Heart!
4 Still the fragrance of thine ointment
All the earth is filling now,
And thy tears are turned to jewels
For a crown upon thy brow:
There are thousands in all ages
Come to Christ because of thee;
O, then, Mary, with thy converts
In thy kindness number me.
O Christ, Thy guilty people spare.
10 CHRIST, Thy guilty people spare;
Lo, kneeling at Thy gracious throne,
Thy Virgin Mother pours her pray'r,
Imploring pardon for her own.
Ye Angels, happy evermore,
Who in your circles nine ascend;
As ye have guarded us before,
So still from harm our steps defend.
2 Ye Prophets and Apostles high,
Behold our contrite sighs and tears; And plead for us when death is nigh, And our all-searching Judge appears. Ye Martyrs all, a purple band;
And Confessors, a white-rob'd train;
O, call us to our native land
From this our exile back again.
3 And ye, O choirs of Virgins chaste,
Receive us to your seats on high;
With Hermits, whom the desert waste
Sent up of old into the sky.
Drive from the flocks, O spirits blest,
The false and faithless race away;
That all within one fold may rest,
Secure beneath one Shepherd's sway.
1 HAIL, Gabriel, hail; a thousand hails
For thine whose music still prevails
To charm the list'ning ear;
Angelic word, sent forth to tell
How He th' Eternal Word should dwell
Amid His creatures here.
2 Voice of Heav'n's sweetness, utter'd low,
Thy words like strains of music grow
Upon the stilly night;
Clear echoes from the mind of God,
That steal through Mary's blest abode
In pulses of delight.
3 O voice, dear voice; the ages hear
That Hail of thine still ling'ring near,
An unexhausted song;
And still thou com'st with balmy wing,
And, O, thou seemest still to sing,
Thine Ave to prolong.
4 Take up in Heaven for us thy part,
And singing, to the Sacred Heart
Thy strains of rapture raise;
And tune with endless Ave still
The voices of the Blest, and fill
The ear of God with praise.
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