Christmas Night

At last Thou art come, little Savior!
   And Thine angels fill midnight with song;
Thou art come to us, gentle Creator!
   Whom Thy creatures have sighed for so long.

Thou art come to Thy beautiful Mother;
   She hath looked on Thy marvelous Face;
Thou art come to us, Maker of Mary!
   And she was Thy channel of grace.

Thou hast brought with Thee plentiful pardon,
   And our souls overflow with delight;
Our hearts are half broken, dear Jesus,
   With the joy of this wonderful night!

We have waited so long for Thee, Savior!
   Thou art come to us, dearest, at last!
Oh bless Thee, dear Joy of Thy Mother,
    This is worth all the wearisome past!

Thou art come, Thou art come, Child of Mary!
   Yet we hardly believe Thou art come;
It seems such a wonder to have Thee,

   New Brother! with us in our home.
Thou wilt stay with us, Master and Maker!
   Thou wilt stay with us now evermore:
We will play with Thee, beautiful Brother!
   On Eternity’s jubilant shore.

Father Faber

Jesus, Master, Teach Me

Teach me, teach me, dearest Jesus,
In Thine own sweet, loving way,
All the lessons of perfection
I must practice day by day.

Teach me Meekness, dearest Jesus,
Of Thine Own the counterpart;
Not in words and actions only,
But the meekness of the heart.

Teach Humility, sweet Jesus,
To this poor, proud heart of mine,
Which yet wishes, O my Jesus,
To be modeled after Thine.

Teach me Fervour, dearest Jesus,
To comply with every grace,
So as never to look backwards,
Never slacken in the race.

Teach me Poverty, sweet Jesus,
                                                                 That my heart may never cling,
                                                                 To whate'er its love might sever,
                                                                 From my Saviour, Spouse and King.

                                                                 Teach me Chastity, dear Jesus,
                                                                 That my every day may see
                                                                 Something added to the likeness
                                                                 That my soul should bear to Thee.

                                                                 Teach Thy Heart, to me, dear Jesus,
                                                                 Is my fervent, final prayer,
                                                                 For all beauties and perfections
                                                                 Are in full perfection there.

From the June-July, 1918 issue of Manna


St. Anthony’s Joy

He knelt in study and in prayer

   In his small cell at home,

When suddenly a Child all fair

   Stood there upon the tome.


It was the little Jesus dear

   Who came to Anthony.

But why came He so very near?

    Because of purity.


St. Anthony was filled with joy;

   He opened wide his arms.

He wanted but this Holy Boy,

   He cared but for His charms.


And Jesus rested for a while

   Upon his yearning breast.--

He was repaid for every trial;

  Of balms that was the best.


But only for a moment he

   Embraced his God, his Love,

For Jesus vanished suddenly:

   He went to heaven above.


So ‘tis with us: oft Jesus lies,

   Not only in our arms,

But to our hearts He ever tries

  To bring His heavenly charms.


The Little Host which we receive

   This scene acts o’er and o’er,

When happy we with Jesus leave

   The tabernacle door.