Sween angels’ voices from above,

Heavenly strains of joy doth bring;

Lo! in Bethlehem’s holy shrine,

We see within a manger laid,

The infant Christ, the babe divine

Of heav’n and earth, come to our aid.

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{24}

A CHAPLET OF FLOWERS.

A chaplet of flow’rs for our lady’s shrine,

Nature’s sweetest gift in the halls of time,

The years roll by, the seasons come and go,

And deep in our hearts doth the flowers grow.

We love the sunshine, the air, the showers

That nurture the earth bringing forth sweet flow’rs;

How much more our lady the virgin mild,

Who gave to us Bethlehem’s holy child.

Dear lady we pray our guide you will be,

Our clear shining star over land and sea,

Like the breath of the flow’rs so pure and sweet,

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