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1. To ancient Milan’s city fair,
where holy Ambrose dwelt,
A woman came in deepest woe,
and at his feet she knelt:
“Father, I weep both day and night,
my very heart is riv’n;
My unbelieving son is still,
by pride and passion driv’n.
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3. “Rise, daughter, rise,” the saint replied,
“take courage from thy fears;
The child will not be lost for whom,
a mother sheds such tears.”
For Augustine unbaptized it was,
that weeping mother pray’d,
And on Saint Austin’s breast at last,
her dying head was laid.
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2. He wanders to and fro on earth,
his spirit seeking rest;
And finding none, he drains a cup,
by God and man unblest.
His voice, O Father, still upholds,
each impious sect in turn,
and men from his impassion’d words,
pernicious errors learn.”
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