Our soul shall magnify the Lord,
In Him our spirit shall rejoice;
Assembled here with sweet accord,
Our hearts shall praise Him with our voice.
Since He regards our low estate,
And hears His handmaids when they pray,
We humbly plead at Mercy's gate,
Where none are ever turn'd away.
The poor are His peculiar care,
To them His promises are sure;
His gifts the poor in spirit share:
O may we always thus be poor!
God of our hope, to Thee we bow,
Thou art our refuge in distress;
The Husband of the widow, Thou,
The Father of the fatherless.
May we the law of love fulfil,
To bear each other's burdens here;
Suffer, and do Thy righteous will,
And walk in all Thy faith and fear.
Didst Thou not give Thy Son to die,
For our transgressions, in our stead?
And can Thy goodness aught deny
To those for whom Thy Son hath bled?
Then may our union, here begun,
Endure for ever, firm and free;
At Thy right-hand may we be one,
One with each other, and with Thee.
Source: Sacred Poems and Hymns #285