Memoirs of Anne C. L. Botta/Charity
O Thou who once on earth beneath the weight
Of our mortality didst live and move,
The incarnation of profoundest love;
Who on the Cross that love didst consummate,
Whose deep and ample fullness could embrace
The poorest, meanest of our fallen race:
How shall we e'er that boundless debt repay?
By long, loud prayers in gorgeous temples said?
By rich oblations on thine altars laid?
Ah, no! not thus Thou didst appoint the way:
When Thou wast bowed our human woe beneath,
Then as a legacy Thou didst bequeath
Earth's sorrowing children to our ministry,
Saying, As ye do to them ye do to me.