Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, "Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come;"
And through the dark its echoes sweetly ringing,
The music of the Gospel leads us home.
Angels of Jesus, &c.
Rest comes at length, though life be long and dreary;
The day must dawn, and darksome might be past;
All journeys end in welcomes to the weary, And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last.
Full in the panting heart of Rome,
Beneath the Apostle's crowning dome,
From pilgrims' lips that kiss the ground,
Breathes in all tongues one only sound;
"God bless our Pope, the great, the good."
The golden roof, the marble walls,
The Vatican's majestic halls,
The note redouble: till it fills
With echoes sweet the seven hills;
"God bless our Pope, the great, the good."
Then surging through each hallowed gate,
Where martyrs' glory, in peace, await,
It sweeps beyond the solemn plain,
Peals over Alps, across the main :
"God bless our Pope, the great, the good."
From torrid South to frozen North,
The wave harmonious stretches forth;
Yet strikes no chord more true to Rome's,
Than rings within our hearts and homes;
"God bless our Pope, the great, the good."
For like the sparks of unseen fire,
That speak along the magic wire,
From home to home, from heart to heart,
These words of countless children dart:
"God bless our Pope, the great, the good."
Hail, Holy Mission.
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Sighing we turn to thee,
For weary have we found
The path of sin to be.
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Sent to us from above,
When Jesus with His Cross
Comes to win back our love,
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Time of repentant tears,
When to the soul returns
The peace of former years.
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Sweet time of holy prayer,
When rests the soul on God,
Freed from this dark world's care.
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Time of all others blest,
When in the loving soul
Jesus takes up His rest.
Hail, holy Mission, hail,
Foretaste of joys above:
O Jesus, make our hearts
Burn with Thy tender love.
Jesus, my God, behold at length the time,
When I resolve to turn away from crime;
O pardon me, Jesus, Thy mercy I implore,
I will never more offend Thee—no, never more.
Since my poor soul Thy precious Blood hath cost,
Suffer me not for ever to be lost!
O pardon me, Jesus, Thy mercy I implore,
I will never more offend Thee—no, never more.
Kneeling, in tears, behold me at Thy feet,
Like Magdalen, forgiveness I entreat.
O pardon me, Jesus, Thy mercy I implore,
I will never more offend Thee-no, never more
The Passion of Jesus.
By the blood that flowed from Thee
In Thy bitter agony,
By the scourge so meekly borne,
By Thy purple robe of scorn,-
Jesu, Saviour, hear our cry!
Thou wert suffering once as we;
Hear the loving Litany
We, Thy children, sing to Thee.
By the thorns that crown'd Thy head,
By Thy sceptre of a reed,
By Thy footstep faint and slow,
Weigh'd beneath Thy cross of woe,-
Jesu, Saviour, hear our cry, &c.
By the nails and pointed spear,
By Thy people's cruel jeer,
By Thy dying prayer which rose
Begging mercy for Thy foes,-
Jesu, Saviour, hear our cry,
By the darkness thick as night,
Blotting out the sun from sight;
By the cry with which in death
Thou didst yield Thy parting breath,—
Jesu, Saviour, hear our cry, &c.
By Thy weeping Mother's woe,
By the sword that pierc'd her through,
When in anguish standing by,
On the Cross she saw Thee die,—
Jesu, Saviour, hear our cry, &c.
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