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16 Teach, oh, teach us, holy Child, By thy face so meek and mild; Teach us to resemble thee In thy sweet humility. Hail, &c.

Virgin Mother! Mary blest! By the joys that fill thy breast, Pray for us, that we may prove Worthy of the Saviour's love. Hail,&c.

 

flowers of martyrs, hail! Smitten by the tyrant foe, On life's threshold,—as the gale Strews the roses ere they blow.

First to die for Christ—sweet lambs, At the very altar ye, With your fatal crowns and palms, Sport in your simplicity.

Yet is Herod's wrath in vain, Though a thousand babes he slay; Christ, amid a thousand slain, Is in safety borne away.

Honour, virtue, glory, merit, Be to thee, O Virgin's Son, With the Father and the Spirit, While eternal ages run.

