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30 See aloft on victory's throne, Blended in glory both Mother and Son, In one eternal embrace!

All the sorrows her bosom bore, All her pains and afflictions sore, At length supremely repaid;— There she reigns on the cloudless height, Only less than the Lord of light, In hues immortal arrayed.

There she lives as a fount of grace, Ever flowing for Adam's race, And still for ever to flow; There, while ages on ages run, Sweetly, sweetly, she pleads with her Son For us her children below.

Lady, than all the heavens more high, More than seraph in purity, A glance of pity incline! Teach us to feel, teach us to know, Teach us in life and death to shew What treasures of grace are thine.

 

Angel guardian, thanks to thee For thy so watchful care of me; Oh, lead me still in ways of truth, Dear guide of childhood and of youth.

Kind Angel guardian, let my tears Implore thee too for riper years; Oh, keep me safe in wisdom's way. And bring me back if I should stray. 