"THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS."
SCATTERED through the holy Year
The Church's holy-days appear,
Sacred to the chief among
That innumerable throng
Of the blessed saints of God
Who the way of sorrows trod.
Sword-like flame and flame-like sword,
Ravening beast and blood outpoured,
Persecutions manifold,
More than page hath ever told,
For the love of Christ they bore
Who can suffer now no more,
But at rest in Paradise
Drink of endless victories.
Parted from our sight are they,
Yet a cloud of witnesses
Do they watch us on the way
Where our foes unnumbered press.
One with us, their words of cheer
Ever reach us struggling here;
One with us, their every name
Puts our laggard strife to shame.
While those names she still repeats
Year by year, the Church entreats:
The Church's holy-days appear,
Sacred to the chief among
That innumerable throng
Of the blessed saints of God
Who the way of sorrows trod.
Sword-like flame and flame-like sword,
Ravening beast and blood outpoured,
Persecutions manifold,
More than page hath ever told,
For the love of Christ they bore
Who can suffer now no more,
But at rest in Paradise
Drink of endless victories.
Parted from our sight are they,
Yet a cloud of witnesses
Do they watch us on the way
Where our foes unnumbered press.
One with us, their words of cheer
Ever reach us struggling here;
One with us, their every name
Puts our laggard strife to shame.
While those names she still repeats
Year by year, the Church entreats:
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