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

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.

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.