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Rh I cannot see him, but I know That angels kneel and gaze Around the altar, where for us In patient love he stays.

Great Lord, what wondrous love was thine To choose this poor abode! Ah, dearest child—believe it well,— This church contains our God." Then child and mother bow'd again In that cold silent street, And went once more upon their way With shoeless, shiv'ring feet.

 

let us here repose, and gaze On Mary's face awhile; We wander to and fro all day, And now we want her smile. The godless look of things without, Oh, how it drives us here, To prize with grateful hearts the bliss Of finding Mary near!

The very walls we pass each day Cry out their impious tale; And blasphemies are heard that make The stoutest spirit quail. Oh, leave we, then, the crowded streets, Their noise and dust and glare; We've thought and talk'd and sinn'd since morn, We need a moment's prayer. 