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Teach, oh, teach us, holy Child,
By thy face so meek and mild;
Teach us to resemble thee
In thy sweet humility.
Hail, &c.

Virgin Mother! Mary blest!
By the joys that fill thy breast,
Pray for us, that we may prove
Worthy of the Saviour's love.
Hail, &c.

6.

Holy Innocents.

LOVELY flowers of martyrs, hail!
Smitten by the tyrant foe,
On life's threshold,-as the gale
Strews the roses ere they blow.

First to die for Christ-sweet lambs,
At the very altar ye,

With your fatal crowns and palms,
Sport in your simplicity.

Yet is Herod's wrath in vain,
Though a thousand babes he slay;
Christ, amid a thousand slain,
Is in safety borne away.

Honour, virtue, glory, merit,
Be to thee, O Virgin's Son,
With the Father and the Spirit,
While eternal ages run.

7. Hymn for the Epiphany.

BETHLEHEM, of noblest cities

None can once with thee compare;
Thou alone the Lord from heaven
Didst for us incarnate bear.
Fairer than the beam of morning
Was the star that told his birth,
To the lands their God announcing,
Hid beneath a form of earth.
By its lambent beauty guided,
See the Eastern kings appear;
See them bend their gifts to offer,
Purest incense, gold, and myrrh.
Sacred gifts of mystic meaning;
Incense doth the God disclose,
Gold a royal child proclaimeth,
Myrrh a future tomb foreshews.
Holy Jesu, in thy brightness

To the Gentile world reveal'd,
Still to babes thyself disclosing,
Ever from the proud conceal'd;
Honour, glory, virtue, merit,
Be to thee, O Virgin's Son,
With the Father and the Spirit,
While eternal ages run.

8. The Holy Name of Jesus. JESU, the very thought of thee With sweetness fills my breast; But sweeter far thy face to see, And in thy presence rest.

Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, Nor can the memory find,

A sweeter sound than thy blest Name,
O Saviour of mankind.

O Jesu, thou the beauty art
Of angel worlds above;
Thy Name is music to the heart,
Enchanting it with love.

O hope of every contrite soul,
O joy of all the meek,

How kind art thou to those who fall,
How good to those who seek!

But what to those who find? ah, this
Nor tongue nor pen can shew:
The love of Jesus, what it is,
None but his lov'd ones know.

O Jesu, spotless Virgin flower,
Our life, our joy, to thee
Be praise, beatitude, and power
Through all eternity.

9. Hymn for Good Friday.

O'ERWHELM'D in depths of woe, With racking anguish torn, Behold the Saviour of mankind Upon the tree of scorn.

See how the nails those hands

And feet so tender rend;

See down his face and neck and breast His sacred blood descend.

Hark with what awful cry
He yields his parting breath!
That cry it steeps his mother's soul
As in a swoon of death.

The sun withdraws his beam,
The mid-day heav'ns grow pale;
The moon, the stars, the universe,
Their Maker's death bewail.

Shall man alone be mute,
Amidst adoring spheres ?

Come, old and young, come, rich and poor,
And bathe those feet in tears.
Come kneel before his Cross,

Who shed for us his blood;
Who died the victim of pure love,
To make us sons of God.

10.

Easter Hymn.
(1.)

Victima Paschali laudes.

CHRIST the Lord is ris'n to day:
Christians, haste your vows to pay;
Offer ye your praises meet

At the Paschal Victim's feet.

For the sheep the Lamb hath bled,
Sinless in the sinner's stead;
Christ the Lord is ris'n on high,
Now he lives no more to die.

Christ, the Victim undefil'd,
Man to God hath reconcil'd;
Whilst in strange and awful strife
Met together Death and Life.

Christians, on this happy day
Haste with joy your vows to pay;
Christ the Lord is ris'n on high,
Now he lives no more to die.

Say, O wond'ring Mary, say,
What thou sawest on thy way?
"I beheld, where Christ had lain,
Empty tomb and angels twain;
I beheld the glory bright
Of the rising Lord of light:
Christ my hope is ris'n again,
Now he lives, and lives to reign."

Christ, who once for sinners bled,
Now the firstborn from the dead,
Thron'd in endless might and power,
Lives and reigns for evermore.

Hail, eternal Hope on high!
Hail, thou King of victory!
Hail, thou Prince of life ador'd!
Help and save us, gracious Lord!

11.

Easter Hymn.
(II.)

O filii et filiæ.

YE sons and daughters of the Lord!
The King of glory, King ador'd,
This day himself from death restor❜d.

All in the early morning grey
Went holy women on their way,
see the tomb where Jesus lay.

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