Shadows our substance seems,
And nothing lasts for aye.
III
Immortal Christ, we cry,
O let our prayers come nigh
Thy throne of heavenly grace;
Rest him whose form we miss,
Grant him in endless bliss
A lasting dwelling place.
Shadows our substance seems,
And nothing lasts for aye.
Immortal Christ, we cry,
O let our prayers come nigh
Thy throne of heavenly grace;
Rest him whose form we miss,
Grant him in endless bliss
A lasting dwelling place.