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MY HOPE.

Though in a foreign land I dwell afar,

I taste in dreams the endless joys of heaven.

Fain would I fly beyond the farthest star,

And see the wonders to the ransomed given!

No more the sense of exile weighs on me,

When once I dream of that immortal day.

To my true fatherland, dear God! I see,

For the first time I soon shall fly away.

Ah! give me, Jesus! wings as white as snow,

That unto Thee I soon may take my flight.

I long to be where flowers unfading blow;

I long to see Thee, O my heart’s Delight!

I long to fly to Mary’s mother-arms, —

To rest upon that spotless throne of bliss;

And, sheltered there from troubles and alarms,

For the first time to feel her gentle kiss.

Thy first sweet smile of welcoming delight

Soon show, O Jesus! to Thy lowly bride;

O’ercome with rapture at that wondrous sight,

Within Thy Sacred Heart, ah! let me hide.

O happy moment! and O heavenly grace!

When I shall hear Thee, Jesus, speak to me;

And the full vision of Thy glorious Face

For the first time my longing eyes shall see.

Thou knowest well, my only martyrdom

Is love, O Heart of Jesus Christ! for Thee;

And if my soul craves for its heavenly home,

‘Tis but to love Thee more, eternally.

Above, when Thy sweet Face unveiled I view,

Measure nor bounds shall to my love be given;

Forever my delight shall seem as new

As the first time my spirit entered heaven.

June 12, 1896.

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