A HYMN FOR CORPUS CHRISTI
by St. Thomas
Aquinas, translated by J.M. Neale
Of the glorious Body telling,
O my tongue, its mysteries sing,
And the Blood, all price excelling,
Which the Gentiles' Lord and King,
In a noble womb once dwelling,
Shed for this world's ransoming.
Given for us, for us descending
Of a Virgin to proceed,
Man with man in converse blending,
Scattered he the Gospel seed,
Till his sojourn drew to ending,
Which he closed in wondrous deed.
At the last great Supper lying,
Circled by his brethren's band,
Meekly with the law complying,
First he finished its command,
Then, immortal Food supplying,
Gave himself with his own hand.
Word-made-Flesh, by word he maketh
Very bread his Flesh to be;
Man in wine Christ's Blood partaketh,
And if senses fail to see,
Faith alone the true heart waketh
To behold the mystery.
Therefore
we, before him bending,
This great Sacrament revere;
Types and shadows have their ending,
For the newer Rite is here;
Faith, our outward sense befriending,
Makes the inward vision clear.
Glory, let us give, and blessing,
To the Father, and the Son;
Honour, might, and praise addressing,
While eternal ages run;
Ever too his Love confessing,
Who from Both, with Both, is One. Amen.
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