Happy Anniversary Fr. Villa

                                
                               THE PRIESTLY ROBE

Touch it lightly, or not at all.

Let it not fall !

Let not a fabric so august

Trail in the dust!

`Tis a costly thing,

Woven by love in suffering.

`Twas Jesus` parting gift to men.

When the Lord rose to Heaven again,

His latest breathing fell on it.

A mystery hides within its folds.

Quickened by sacramental breath,

It holds

The power of life and death.

Would you sully it ? Would you rend it?

Is there a Christian would not defend it-

A robe so costly and so rare,

So wonderfully fair ?

Woe to the hand profane

Woe to the heart ungracious,

Woe to the tongue unheeding,

Would dare to cast a stain

On a vestment made so precious

By such costly bleeding!

II

I know this robe and its history,

And what strange virtue goeth forth

From its hem to bless the earth;

And I adore the mystery

That gives it grace,

In Jesus` name, to soothe and heal.

With more than human tenderness

I prize the priestly order;

And, while the reverent knee I kneel,

I do not see beneath the border

Frail feet of clay,

But seek to find, if so I may,

By feeling,

Some gracious thread which will convey

To my sore spirit healing.

Vicars of Christ ! deem me not rude,

If nearer than is wont I press me;

But turn and bless me

Amid the kneeling multitude.

The priestly robe  Rev. Clarence Walworth  anno 1888