  O GIFT, O BlessÈd Sacrament—my Gold, All that I live by royally, the power, Like gold, that buys life for me, hour by hour, And crowns me with a greatness manifold Such that my spirit scarce hath spring to hold Its treasure and its sovereignty of dower! O BlessÈd Sacrament—my Frankincense, God raised aloft in His Divinity, Sweet-smelling as the dry and precious tree, That spreads round sacrifice an odour dense, Hiding with mystic offering our offence; O holy Balm of God that pleads for me! O Gift, O BlessÈd Sacrament—my Myrrh! Thou art to die for me—a holy Thing, That will preserve my soul from festering, Nor may it feel mortality, the stir And motion into dust, if Thou confer On it Thy bitter strength of cherishing! |
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