As, when our Lord doth rest in solemn state
On altar for his worship set apart,
And from the fulness of each faithful heart
The fairest flowers to him are consecrate—
Pure lilies, that with fragrant breath pour forth
The speechless worship human love must give;
Red roses, in whose flush love seems to live—
As, 'mid this wealth, some gift of little worth,
Some penance-hued, frail-blooming violet,
Is brought by humble soul with love as great