Faint though the morning's beams diffuse the light
Athwart the sensuous gloom of mental night,
Yet swiftly flee the shadows of despair;
And! o, the guiding star of Hope, abiding, fair,
Beacons the mind distraught by error's sway
To where the Bethlehem babe in meekness lay.
Ah, tender thought of purest mother love.
Winging its precious promise from above
To heal earth's anguish, set its captives free,
Let thy sweet incense e'er abide with me;
Let meek and holy thoughts the birth attest,
Of God's sweet will within the troubled breast.
Oh, lead beyond the manger's natal shrine,
To Love's indwelling grace and joys divine.
Enshrine the risen Christ in deathless creed.
Whose selfless grace doth heal and save indeed.
Though bleeding footsteps may attend my race,
In righteous thought, dear Christ, I seek thy face.
