Like a strong and raging fire In a narrow furnace pent
Glows the Sacred Heart's desire In the Holy Sacrament;
Round that sacred furnace thronging Shall these hearts refuse to burn?
Heart of love and tender longing Shall we make thee no return?
Bending low in adoration, while our souls are borne above,
Twill Be sweet-er far to wear it, Than a crown of the fairest flowers.
'Twas to cast abroad love's fire That our God from heaven came;
May those sparks our love inspire; May we burn with that blest flame;
All our sins, our slights, our coldness, All our insults we deplore,
Pardon, Lord, our daring boldness, We will never wound thee more.
Bending low in adoration, &c.
Blessed Lord, thy heart is cloven With the cross of bitter woe,
There are thorns around it woven And the blood drops from it flow;
Let us take thy cross and bear it, Let they thorny crown be ours,
'Twill be sweeter far to wear it than a crown of fairest flowers.
Bending low in adoration, &c.