Faith of our fathers! Mary's prayers

Shall win our country back to thee,

And through the truth that comes from God, Oh, then indeed shall we be free.

Faith of our fathers! holy Faith!

We will be true to thee till death.

Faith of our fathers! we will love
Both friend and foe in all our strife,
And preach thee too, as love knows how,
By kindly words and virtuous life.

Faith of our fathers! holy Faith!
We will be true to thee till death.

Faith of our fathers! guile and force
To do thee bitter wrong unite;
But all our saints shall pray for us,
And bring us back thy blessed light.

Faith of our fathers! holy Faith!
We will be true to thee till death.

"Peccati non Piu."

To sin bid adieu;

For sinning is slaying

Your Jesus anew.

Bid cursing adieu;
For cursing is stabbing
Your Jesus anew.

False swearing, adieu;

Such oaths stain the honour Of Jesus anew.

To drink bid adieu;

For drunkenness drowneth

His friendship in you.

Obscenity, adieu;

For this brings on Jesus

The scourges anew.

Bid slander adieu;

This murders your neighbour

And Jesus anew.

Bid rancour adieu;

For, hating one only,
Your love is not true.

Bid vengeance adieu;
Forgive, or no pardon
Has Jesus for you.
Bid stealing adieu;
A thief for a trifle
Sells Jesus anew.

Bid scandal adieu ;
It snatches from Jesus
The souls to Him due.

Yes, sin-sin, adieu,-
To Jesus we'll ever

Be faithful and true.

St. Benedict.

Through the long nave and full-resounding

aisles

Let pealing anthems rise;
This day, that saw immortal Benedict
Ascend the skies!

Pleasure in him had nought;-the grace of age
Was o'er his boyhood shed;

All dust to him the world's fair bloom, whose heart

To heaven had fled.

A flowery path, affection, home, were his ;
But vainly earth allured;

Deep in a lonesome cave his tender bloom
The Saint immured.

There, amid prickly thorns, he curb'd the rage
Of sin-incentive youth;

There drew his sacred rule from the pure fount Of life and truth.

There still upon the height the Baptist's shrine, Memorial of his love,

Tells how he smote the Pagan god, and strew'd The Paphian grove.

Now from the heavenly dome, seated serene Amid seraphic choirs,

He sees us all, and with celestial draughts
Each heart inspires.

Of all eternity's bright diadems,
In Faith's high combat won,
Brighter than that crowning Saint Benedict
There glitter none.

Glory eternal to the Father be,
And sole-begotten Son;

With Thee, great Paraclete, eternal Three!
And trinal One!

St. Francis Assisi.

Let Alverna's holy mountain
That high mystery proclaim,
Of the stamps of life eternal
Which on blessed Francis came;
While he sobb'd, and while he sigh'd,
Grieving for the Crucified.

There, within a lonely cavern,

Far from all the world withdrawn,
As the Saint his watch was keeping,
With incessant scourgings torn ;

Ever musing more and more
On the wounds that Jesus bore;

As he pray'd in cold and hunger,
As he pour'd his glowing tears;
In his fervent spirit mounting
Far above terrestrial spheres,
Every earthly thing forgot
In his Saviour's bitter lot ;-

Lo! to him, in form seraphic,
Borne upon a cross on high,
Six irradiant wings expanding!
Came the King of glory nigh,
Gazing on him with a face
Of benignity and grace.

He that tender glance returning,
Saw the Incarnate Light of Light;
Saw his gracious meek Redeemer,

Rob'd in glory infinite;

Drank the words that from Him fell,— Words divine, unspeakable!

Straightway all the sacred summit

Kindles like a flaming pyre; Holy Francis sinks enraptur'd, Fainting with ecstatic fire; And upon his flesh appear Christ's immortal stigmata: