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117
ON THE BAPTISM OF OUR INFANT.
Arrayed in white, we give to God our child,While a fair wreath of snowdrops set in moss
(As lilies might the Laver's rim emboss)
Circles the Font with blossoms undefiled.
From Heaven a white-winged angel is beguiled
To see his charge signed with the Saviour's Cross,
Token that he shall count the world but loss
In soldier-service for the Master mild.
Oh, may the “water and the blood” this day,
Made efficacious by the Spirit's might,
Bedeck our darling's soul in fair array;
That here a pilgrim he may “walk in white,”
Till, “Well done, faithful one,” the Master say,
“Wear the bright garland of the finished fight!”
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