By the love, which o'er the feet
Of thy God-transfigur'd Son
Dropp'd the team, like balsam sweet,
Spite of ev'ry scornful one;
By the box of ointment rare,
Whence the drops so fragrant fell;
By the locks, whose gentle care
Dried His holy members well—
muller SAMARITANA (St, John iv.).
By the well where Abram erst
Drove his flocks to drink their fill;
By the bucket which the thirst
Of the Saviour served to still;
By the fountain, balm-exhaling,
That from yon bright region flows,
Ever clear and never failing.