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THE LIFE OF OUR LORD. |
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A most unworldly throne; Thou to my cradle earnest, Lord, With gifts invisibly outpoured
From waters of Thine own.
Jesus ! whom Thy meek Mother vowed To God, whose law would have allowed
Her first-born to go free, Oh give me such a humble mind, That in obedience I may find
The choicest liberty.
Jesus! sweet fugitive, who fled From Herod's bloody net outspread
For Thy dear Infancy, Give me, O Lord, like modest care To fly the world when it speaks fair,
To steal Thy grace away.
Jesus ! whom Thy sad Mother sought, And in the Temple found, who taught
The aged in Thy youth : How blest are they who keep aright, Or find, when lost, the living light
Of Thine eternal truth !
O Creator ! hear Thy creatures, Saviour ! hear us when we pray; Thou who dost renew our natures, Good Spirit ! give us hearts to say, Deus meus et omnia ! |
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