Poems (Kimball)/Holy Mysteries
HOLY MYSTERIES.
HOW can it be—the sweet new birth Of water and the Spirit wrought, Beyond the wisdom of the earth To understand or bring to nought! We know not how; We only bow And say, Amen.
How can it be—the Holy Ghost His seven-fold gifts on men bestows Through laying on of hands that boast No power the mystery to disclose! We know not how; We only bow And say, Amen.
How can it be—the priestly prayer Of consecration duly said, And we the one Oblation share, And feed upon the Living Bread! We know not how; We only bow And say, Amen.
How can it be—the precious Blood Once shed for man doth never fail, But flows a sacramental flood That contrite sinners shall avail We know not how; We only bow And say, Amen.
How can it be—from age to age. Since the great day of Pentecost,The Church abides, though heathen rage, The grace of Orders never lost! We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.
How can it be—goes forth the word Of holy Church, and twain are one: Type of Her union with Her Lord, Foreshadowed when the race begun We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.
How can it be that wine and bread In death's dark hour shall life afford, Till with His unveiled Presence fed We are forever with the Lord! We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.