Saviour, when Thine hour of anguish,
On that awful cross was past,
Where Thy soul was left to languish,
For our sins alone at last:
Mighty Victor, from Death’s prison,
Death despoiling of his prey,
O the blessed, glorious vision
On that resurrection day!
Seen by her who of love’s essence
Brought to Thee the best she had;
Brought a breaking heart; Thy presence,
And Thine only, could make glad:
Tribute sweet, how Thou esteemed it!
Thou who hadst rejected been!
In Thine absence Mary deemed it—
Deemed this world an empty scene.
O our Master, much it shames us.
That so often we forget
How Thy love most fitly claims us,
Constantly on us is set.
Guerdon sacred Thou did’st render
To Thy “brethren,” Mary bore
That dear message, true and tender,
Precious then and evermore.
Thou that cup of joy wert drinking,
Peace and love with them to share,
In Thine hour of triumph thinking
On the objects of Thy care.
Homeward! upward! now directed:
“Father”—brought to God so near;
By the Father’s love protected;
Guarding them while strangers here.