What thanks and praise to Thee we owe,
O priest and sac­ri­fice divine,
For Thy dear saint through whom we know
So many a gra­cious word of Thine;

Whom Thou didst choose to tell the tale
Of all Thy man­hood’s toils and tears,
And for a mo­ment lift the veil
That hides Thy boy­hood’s spot­less years.

How ma­ny a soul with guilt op­pressed
Has learned to hear the joy­ful sound
In that sweet tale of sin con­fessed
The Fa­ther’s love, the lost and found?

How ma­ny a child of sin and shame
Has re­fuge found from guil­ty fears
Through her, who to the Sav­ior came
With cost­ly oint­ments and with tears!

What count­less wor­ship­pers have sung,
In low­ly fane or lof­ty choir,
The song that loosed the si­lent tongue
Of him who was the Bap­tist’s sire!

And still the Church through all her days
Uplifts the strains that ne­ver cease,
The bless­èd vir­gin’s hymn of praise,
The ag­èd Si­me­on’s words of peace.

O hap­py saint! whose sac­red page,
So rich in words of truth and love,
Pours on the Church from age to age
This heal­ing unc­tion from above;

The wit­ness of the Sav­ior’s life,
The great apos­tle’s chos­en friend
Through wea­ry years of toil and strife
And still found faith­ful to the end.

So grant us, Lord, like him to live,
Beloved by man, ap­proved by Thee,
Till Thou at last the sum­mons give,
And we, with him, Thy face shall see.