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Unknown author
To
Christ, the Prince of Peace,
And Son of God most high,
The Father of the world to come,
Sing we with holy joy.
Deep in His Heart for us
The Wound of love He bore;—That love, which still He kindles in
The hearts that Him adore.
O Jesu! Victim blest!
What else but love divine
Could Thee constrain to open thus
That sacred Heart of Thine?
O Fount of endless life!
O Spring of waters clear!
O Flame celestial, cleansing all
Who unto Thee draw near!
Hide me in Thy dear Heart,
For thither do I fly;
There seek Thy grace through life, in death
Thine immortality.
Praise to the Father be,
Praise to His only Son;
Praise to the blessed Paraclete,
While endless ages run.