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22 Hail, only living Fount of bliss, In joy and sorrow tried, No refuge for the heart like this, Thou spear-pierc'd side! Hail, thou the golden gate of heaven! The entrance for the bride, From whence the crown of life is giv'n, Sweet Jesu's side!

 

"Oh, blessed is my baby boy!" Thus spoke a mother to her child, And kiss'd him with excess of joy: He look'd into her face and smil'd. But as the mother breath'd his name, The fervent prayer was scarcely said, Convulsions shook his infant frame— The mother's only hope was dead!

Yet still her fervent trust she kept In Him who changes grief to joy; And still she whisper'd as she wept, "Oh, blessed is my baby boy, Oh, blessed Is my baby boy, And sweet the hope when life is o'er Again to see, in endless joy, His darling face, and part no more!"

