THE PURIFICATION
HAIL to the Lord who comes,
Comes to his temple gate!
Not with his Angel host,
Not in his kingly state;
No shouts proclaim him nigh,
No crowds his coming wait;
2 But borne upon the throne
Of Mary's gentle breast,
Watched by her duteous love,
In her fond arms at rest;
Thus to his Father's house
He comes, the heavenly Guest.
3 There Joseph at her side
In reverent wonder stands;
And, filled with holy joy,
Old Simeon in his hands
Takes up the promised Child,
The glory of all lands.
Unison.
4 Hail to the great First-born
Whose ransom-price they pay!
The Son before all worlds,
The Child of man to-day,
That he might ransom us
Who still in bondage lay.
5. O Light of all the earth,
Thy children wait for thee!
Come to thy temples here,
That we, from sin set free,
Before thy Father’s face
May all presented be!
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