Page:A Christmas Faggot (1884, Gurney).djvu/55

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Rise, Thou Dayspring, and afar
     Bid the shadows flee!

Jesu, Thou art swift to bless,
     Strong to comfort, skilled to heal;
Failure is with Thee success,
     Woe the forerunner of weal;
Every stroke is a caress,
     Every crust a meal.

Master, Thou canst raise the dead
     From the grave, the bed, the bier,[1]

  1. S. John xi. 43; S. Matt. ix. 25; S. Luke vii. 14.