71. Saint John the Evangelist

Saint of the Sacred Heart,
Sweet teacher of the Word,
Partner of Mary's woes,
And favorite of thy Lord!

Thou to whom grace was given
To stand when Peter fell;
Whose heart could brook the Cross
Of Him it loved so well!

We know not all thy gifts;
But this Christ bids us see,
That He who so loved all
Found more to love in thee.

When the last evening came,
Thy head was on His breast,
Pillowed on earth, where now
In heaven the saints find rest.

Thy long fair hair hung down,
His glance spoke love to thine,
While love's meek freedom owned
The human and divine.

His Heart, with quickened love,
Because His hour drew near.
Now throbbed against thy head,
Now beat into thine ear.

He nursed thee in His lap.
He loved thee to make free;
What Mary was to Him,
He made Himself to thee.

God and His friend, so free
To touch, to rest, to move!j
The angels Avondering gazed,
And envied human love.

Dear Saint! I stand far off,
With vilest sins oppressed;
Oh may I dare, like thee.
To lean upon His breast?

His touch could heal the sick,
His voice could raise the dead I
Oh that my soul might be
Where He allows thy head.

The gifts He gave to thee
He gave thee to impart;
And I, too, claim with thee
His Mother and His Heart.

Ah teach me, then, dear Saint!
The secrets Christ taught thee,
The beatings of His Heart,
And how it beat for me.