Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

6 Look at the crowds of this sweet land,
Dear Father Philip! see
How shepherdless they wander on,
How lone, how hopelessly!

70 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.

8 Dear Father Philip! give to us
Thy manners gay and free,
Thy patient trust, thy plaint of prayer,
Thy deep simplicity.

44.

St. Philip's Penitents.

1 SWEET Saint Philip! thou hast won us,
Though our hearts were hard as stone;
Sin had once well-nigh undone us,
Now we live for God alone.

Help in Mary! Joy in Jesus!

Sin and Self no more shall please us!
We are Philip's gift to God.

2 Sweet Saint Philip! we are weeping,
Not for sorrow, but for glee;
Bless thy converts bravely keeping
To the bargain made with thee!
Help in Mary! &c.

3 Sweet Saint Philip! old friends want us
To be with them as before;
And old times, old habits, haunt us,
Old temptations press us sore.
Help in Mary! &c.

4 Sweet Saint Philip! do not fear us;
Get us firmness, get us grace;
Only thou, dear Saint! be near us;
We shall safely run the race!
Help in Mary! &c.

5 Sweet Saint Philip! make us wary;
Sin and Death are all around;
Bring us Jesus! bring us Mary!

We shall conquer and be crowned!
Help in Mary! &c.

Sweet Saint Philip! keep us humble,
Make us pure as thou wert pure;
Strongest purposes will crumble,
If we boast and make too sure.
Help in Mary! &c.

7 Sweet Saint Philip! come and ease us
Of the weary load we bear;
Put us in the Heart of Jesus,
Dearest Saint! and leave us there
Help in Mary! &c.

45.

St. Philip's Picture.

1 SAINT PHILIP! I have never known
A Saint as I know thee;

For none have made their wills and ways
So plain for men to see.

I live with thee; and in my toil
All day thou hast thy part;
And then I come at night to learn
Thy picture off by heart.

20 what a prayer thy picture is!
Was Jesus like to thee?

Whence hast thou caught that lovely look
That preaches so to me?
Sermon and prayer thy picture is,

And music to the eye;

Song to the soul, a song that sings
Of whitest purity!

3 A blessing on thy name, dear Saint!
Blessing from young and old,

Whom thou in Mary's gallant band
Hast winningly enrolled!

If ever there were poor man's Saint,
That very Saint art thou!
If ever time were fit for thee,
Dear Saint! that time is now!

4 Philip! strange missioner thou art,
Biding so still at home,
Content if with the evening star
Souls to thy nets will come!
If ever spell could make hard work
Profit and pastime be,

That spell is in thy coaxing ways,
That magic is in thee.

5 Sweet-faced old Man! for so I dare,
Saint though thou be on high,

To name thee, for thou temptest love
By thy humility.

Sweet-faced old Man! what are thy wiles
With which thou winnest men?
Art thou all saints within thyself?

If not, what art thou then?

6 John's love of Mary thou hast got;
Thy house is Mary's home;

And then thou hast Paul's love of souls
With Peter's love of Rome.
Thy heart, that was so large and strong,
It could not quiet bide;

O was it not like his that beats

Within a wounded Side?

7 Saint of the over-worked and poor!
Saint of the sad and gay!
Jesus and Mary be with those
Who keep to thy true way!

O bless us, Philip! Saint most dear!
Thine Oratory bless;

And gain for those who seek thee there
The gift of holiness!

St. Philip's Charity.

1 ALL ye who love the ways of sin,
Come to St. Philip's feet, and learn
The baits that Jesus hath to win
His truant children to return.

All praise and thanks to Jesus be
For sweet St. Philip's charity!

2 That Saint can do such things for you
As your poor hearts would never dream ;
For he can make the false world true,
And penance life's best pleasure seem.
All praise, &c.

3 His words, like gentlest dews, distil;
His face is calm as summer's eve;
His look can tame the wildest will,
And make the stoutest heart to grieve.
All praise, &c.

4 He smiles; and evil habit fails

To bind its victim as before;

Old eins drop off the soul like scales,

Old wounds are healed, and leave no sore.
All praise, &c.

5 His hand, with virgin fragrance fraught,
The heart with painless pressure strains;
And with one touch, all evil thought,
All worldly longing from it drains.
All praise, &c.

6 He breathes on us; the spicy gale
Of Araby is not more sweet;

He breathes new life in hearts that fail,
New vigour into weary feet.

All praise, &c.

7 His voice can raise the dead to life,
So wonderful its accents are;

He speaks, there is an end of strife,
And of the soul's internal war.

All praise, &c.

8 Come, sinners! ye need not forego
Your portion of light-hearted mirth;
He came, unthought-of roads to show,
And plant a paradise on earth.
All praise, &c.

9 Come, try the Saint: his words are true; Give him your hearts; he gives you heaven; He sets light penance, and will do

The penance he himself hath given.
All praise, &c.

47.

St. Philip's Death.

1 DAY set on Rome: its golden morn
Had seen the world's Creator borne
Around St. Peter's square;
Trembling and weeping all the way,
God's Vicar with his God that day
Made pageant brave and rare!

2 O come to Father Philip's cell,

Rome's rank and youth, they know it well,
Come ere the moment flies!

The feast hath been too much for him;
His heart is full, his eye is dim,
And Rome's Apostle dies!

3 Come, O Creator Spirit! come,
Take Thine elect unto his home,
Thy chosen one, sweet Dove!
"Come to thy rest," he hears Thee say;
He waits not he hath passed away
In mortal trance of love.

4 When Rome in deepest slumber slept,
Our father's children knelt and wept
Around his little bed;

He laised his eyes, then let them fall
With marked expression upon all;
He blessed them and was dead.

« AnteriorContinuar »