Come to me, Belovèd,
Babe of Bethlehem;
Lay aside Thy Sceptre
And Thy Diadem.
Come to me, Belovèd;
Light and healing bring;
Hide my sin and sorrow
Underneath Thy wing.
Bid all fear and doubting
From my soul depart,
As I feel the beating
Of Thy Human Heart.
Look upon me sweetly
With Thy Human Eyes
With Thy Human Finger
Point me to the skies.
Safe from earthly scandal
My poor spirit hide
In the utter stillness
Of Thy wounded Side.
Guide me, ever guide me,
With Thy piercèd Hand,
Till I reach the borders
Of the pleasant land.
Then, my own Belovèd,
Take me home to rest;
Whisper words of comfort;
Lay me on Thy Breast.
Show me not the Glory
Round about Thy Throne;
Show me not the flashes
Of Thy jewelled Crown.
Hide me from the pity
Of the Angels' Band,
Who ever sing Thy praises,
And before Thee stand.
Hide me from the glances
Of the Seraphin,-
They, so pure and spotless,
I, so stained with sin.
Hide me from S. Michael
With his flaming sword:-
Thou can'st understand me,
O my Human Lord!
Jesu, my Belovèd,
Come to me alone;
In Thy sweet embraces
Make me all Thine own.
By the quiet waters,
Sweetest Jesu, lead;
'Mid the virgin lilies,
Purest Jesu, feed.
Only Thee, Belovèd,
Only Thee, I seek.
Thou, the Man Christ Jesus,
Strength in flesh made weak.