XXVI.

TO OUR HOLY FATHER

AND BLESSED FOUNDER,

ST. PHILIP NERI.

I.

Dear Father Philip! holy Sire!

We are poor sons of thine,

Thy last and least, then to our prayers

A father's ear incline.

II.

We wandered weeping heretofore

For many a long, long day;

But thou hast taught us how to mourn

In thy more tender way:

III.

To mourn that God of all His sons

So little loved should be ;

To mourn that mid the world's cold hearts None were more cold than we ;

IV.

To mourn, and yet to joy and love,

With overflowing heart,

And in thy school of Christian mirth
To bear our humble part.

V.

Gay as the lark at morning's door,

Singing its fearless song;

Yet plaintive as the dove that mourns

In secret all day long;—

VI.

Busy and blythe in hidden cell,

Or crowded street no less,

We use thy modest wiles to save

The world by cheerfulness.

VII.

Mid strife and change, cold hearts and tongues,

How much we owe to thee!

This sunny service! who could dream

Earth had such liberty.

VIII.

Look at the crowds of this sweet land,

Dear Father Philip! see

How shepherdless they wander on,

How lone, how hopelessly.

IX.

O make us sons of thine indeed,

Fill us with thy true mirth,

Thy strength of prayer, thy might of love, To change these hearts of earth.

X.

By thee for Mary's household hired,-
May burning heart and word

So preach her, that her name may be
In England like a sword.

XI.

And oft above our shrines be seen,
In humblest garments swathed,
Our God and King, while every eye
In speechless tears is bathed.

XII.

May crowds, like reeds before the wind,

In utter love bow down,

In utter love and faith before

His sacramental throne ;

XIII.

While from His known and kingly eye
Bright streams of blessing part,

And rain like sunbeams far within
The rapt and trembling heart.

XIV.

In Philip's name, in Philip's way,
To God and Mary true,

In this our own dear Saxon-land

Good work we fain would do.