God From on High Hath Heard

God from on high hath heard;
Let sighs and sorrows cease;
Lo, from the opening Heaven
Descends the promised Peace!

Hark, through the silent night
Angelic voices swell:
The hosts of heaven proclaim
God, born on earth to dwell.

Now with the shepherd band
Speed on with eager feet:
Come seek the hallowed cave
The holy Babe to greet.

But O, what sight appears
Within the lowly door!
Behold a manger rude,
A Child and Mother poor.

Art Thou the Christ, the Son,
Of Light the very Light,
Who holdest in thine Hand
Earth and the starry height?

Yea, faith can pierce the cloud
Which veils thy glory now;
And hail Thee God and Lord,
To Whom all creatures bow,

Faith sees the sapphire throne,
Where angels evermore
Adoring tremble still,
And trembling still adore.

Jesu, thy silence speaks,
And bids us not refuse
To bear what flesh would shun,
To spurn what flesh would choose.

Once born within us, Lord,
By that pure love of thine,
Keep Thou each contrite heart
Thy cradle and thy shrine. Amen.

Alfred Young, The Catholic Hymnal (New York: The Catholic Publication Society Co., 1888).

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Jesus, the Redeemer of the World

Jesus, Redeemer of the world,
Who, ere the earliest dawn of light,
Wast from eternal ages born,
Immense in glory as in might;
Immortal Hope of all mankind,
In Whom the Father’s Face we see;
O hear the prayers thy people pour
This day thro’out the world to Thee.

Remember, O Creator Lord!
That in the Virgin’s sacred womb
Thou wast conceived, and of her flesh
Didst our humanity assume.
This ever-blest returning day
Its witness bears, that all alone,
From thine own Father’s bosom forth,
To save the world Thou camest down.

O Day! to which the seas and sky,
And earth and heaven glad welcome sing;
O Day! which healed our misery,
And brought to earth salvation’s King.
We too, O Lord, who have been cleansed
In thine own fount of Blood Divine,
Present our tribute of sweet song
On this blest Natal Day of thine.

E. F. MacGonigle, The Sodalist’s Hymnal (Philadelphia: E. F. MacGonigle, 1887).

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How Kind It Is of Thee

How kind it is of thee to stay,
Bright angel, far from heav’n away,
And watch, by night, and watch by day,
Beside a sinful child of clay.

How good and pure I ought to be,
Who always live so near to thee;
Beneath thine eyes the whole day round,
Where’er I tread is holy ground.

O blessed guardian, kind and mild,
Have pity on a poor weak child,
And pray that God may make me strong
To do the right and shun the wrong.

Thy pray’rs shall be my shield and spear,
Dear angel mine, when sin is near;
Thine arms enfold me when I die,
And waft me homeward to the sky.

Brothers of the Christian Schools, The De La Salle Hymnal (New York: La Salle Bureau, 1913).

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Oh Come, Sweet Anthems Let Us Sing

Oh come, sweet anthems let us sing,
Loud thanks to our Almighty King;
For we our voices high should raise,
When our salvation’s Rock we praise.

Chorus
Great is the Lord! what tongue can frame
An honor equal to His name?

Into His presence let us go,
To crave His grace while here below;
To Him address, in joyful songs,
The praise that to His name belongs.

The depths of earth are in His hand,
Her secret wealth at His command;
The strength of hills that reach the skies,
Subjected to His empire lies.

Oh let us to His courts repair,
And bow with adoration there;
Down on our knees devoutly all,
Before the Lord, our Maker, fall.

Brothers of the Christian Schools, The De La Salle Hymnal (New York: La Salle Bureau, 1913).

Posted in Bible, Catholic, Catholicism, Christianity, Faith, Hymns, Liturgy, Meditation, Prayer, Religion, Sacred Music

Daily, Daily Sing to Mary

Daily, daily sing to Mary,
Sing, my soul, her praises due;
All her feasts, her actions worship,
With the heart’s devotion true.
Lost in wond’ring contemplation,
Be her Majesty confess’d;
Call her Mother, call her Virgin,
Happy Mother, Virgin blest.

She is mighty to deliver;
Call her, trust her lovingly;
When the tempest rages round thee,
She will calm the troubled sea.
Gifts of heaven she has given,
Noble Lady, to our race;
She the Queen who decks her subjects
With the light of God’s own grace.

Sing, my tongue, the Virgin’s trophies,
Who for us her Maker bore,
For the curse of old inflicted,
Peace and blessing to restore.
Sing in songs of peace unending,
Sing the world’s majestic Queen:
Weary not nor faint in telling,
All the gifts she gives to men.

All our joys do flow from Mary;
All then join her praise to sing:
Trembling sing the Virgin Mother,
Mother of our Lord and King.
While we sing her awful glory,
Far above our fancy’s reach,
Let our hearts be quick to offer
Love alone the heart can teach.

The Christian Brothers, The Catholic Youth’s Hymn Book (New York: P. O’Shea, 1871).

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Dearest Lord Jesus, My Saviour, My Friend

Dearest Lord Jesus, my Saviour, my Friend,
Unto Thy keeping my soul I commend;
Guard and defend me in weal and in woe,
On me Thy favor in bounty bestow.

Living and dying in Thee will I rest,–
Thus will I ever be truly most blest;
Let me not wander or swerve from Thy side,
Be Thou, Lord Jesus, my guardian and guide.

Let not Thy Passion for me be in vain;
Dearest Lord Jesus my weakness sustain;
When by temptation my virtue is tried,
Let me be mindful of Thee crucified.

Be Thou my comfort, my strength, and my stay,
Dearest Lord Jesus, on life’s toilsome way;
And when my journey has come to an end,
Be Thou in Judgment my merciful Friend.

John G. Hacker, Catholic Hymnal (New York: Schwartz, Kirwin & Fauss, 1920).

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O Gift of Gifts

O Gift of gifts! O grace of Faith!
My God, how can it be,
That Thou, Who hast discerning Love,
Shouldst give that gift to me?

How many hearts Thou mightst have had
More innocent than mine:
How many souls more worthy, far,
Of that sweet boon of thine.

Ah Grace! into unlikeliest hearts
It is thy boast to come:
Thy glory of thy light to find
In darkest spots a home.

How can they live, how will they die,
How bear the cross of grief,
Who have not got the light of faith,
The courage of belief?

The crowd of cares, the weightiest cross,
Seem trifles less than light;
Earth looks so little and so low,
When faith shines full and bright.

Thy choice, O God of goodness, then
I lovingly adore;
O give me grace to keep thy grace,
And grace to gain it more. Amen.

Alfred Young, The Catholic Hymnal (New York: The Catholic Publication Society Co., 1888).

Posted in Bible, Catholic, Catholicism, Christianity, Faith, Hymns, Liturgy, Meditation, Prayer, Religion, Sacred Music