Volume 5 — Original. Praises Of The Blessed Sacrament. Imitated from Madame Swetchine.

O vault of heaven, clear and bright! All spangled o'er with stars to-night, Canst say how many worlds of light Adorn thy glorious firmament? For here I long my voice to raise To him who hath my heart always. And fain would know how oft to praise The sweet, All Holy Sacrament.

O shining sun! for every ray That from thee beamed since Eden's day, And shall, till this world pass away, And all thy light and heat be spent: For each bright ray my voice I'd raise To him who hath my heart always, And sing a canticle of praise To this Most Holy Sacrament. O trackless sea! could I but save And count each short-lived glist'ning wave; Their sum would tell how oft I crave To praise the Blessed Sacrament. O fields! for every grassy blade Of which thy beauteous robe is made, Let offerings sweet of praise be laid Before the Blessed Sacrament. O pleasant gardens! could I know How many flowers within you grow: So many flowers of praise I'd strew Before the Blessed Sacrament. O wide, wide world! canst tell to me How many grains of dust in thee? So many would my praises be To this Most Holy Sacrament. O earth! thy praises have an end; To seraphs I the task commend. Their tireless voices they must lend To praise the Blessed Sacrament. Eternity! duration long! To thee alone it doth belong To measure when should cease the song That lauds the Blessed Sacrament!