His Sacred Heart is in great shape;
It beats and pounds in great rate.
Yet always does His blood escape:
His veins of mercy permeate—
Permeate wreck’d lives and dead dreams,
With floods of love outpoured.
His veins – the globe’s many streams,
That bring life—that restore!
His veins of mercy here on Earth
Are ours to drink—ours to tend.
Veins of peace and love need girth;
They clog if we never bend!
Precious the Blood which flows, alas,
From the Holy Altar of grace.
The fountain of life is His Mass:
His Blood is His embrace.
The covenant signed with His Blood,
Which we are blessed to drink,
Promises us eternal life,
If we sign it with our blood—our ink.