All would I give to the people of Christ who in poverty pine.”
Ah, but ’twas then that the King felt the heart in his bosom upleap,
“I am not worthy,” he cried, “such a maiden in bondage to keep!
Here’s a king’s sword for her ransom, and here’s a king’s word to decree
Never to other than Christ and His poor let her servitude be!”
ROSA MYSTICA
By Denis A. McCarthy
O Mystic Rose, in God’s fair garden growing,
O Mystic Rose, in Heaven’s high courtyard blowing—
Make sweet, make sweet the pathway I am going,