John Brownlie (trans.) · 127 of 130

III: A halo rests upon Thy brow

A halo rests upon Thy brow, O Saviour of the sons of men; For Thou art crowned a Victor now;-- But Thou wilt come to us again.

Thou hast a thought for those who tread The steeps of life, and often fail[ The weak in faith lift up the head, And in Thy strength, O Christ, prevail.

Thou art not far removed from those, That yearn for Thee, and seek Thy grace; Who in Thy tender love repose, May hear Thy voice, and see Thy face;--

And know the love that giveth rest, And share its strength, and feel its glow; As he who leaned upon Thy breast, When Thou wert with us, long ago.

But hearts are sad, and lives are lone, They long for Thee, who love Thee most; Even when Thy promised Gift they own,-- The comfort of the Holy Ghost.

Thou art our Faith, our Hope, our Love, O Lover of the souls of men; Bow down Thy heavens, and from above, Come, Blessed Lord, to us again.