It
was written by American Roman Catholic poet Eleanor C. Donnelly
(1838-1917).
With meter 8.7.8.7.8.7 it is set to an unnamed tune, for which the
composer and source are unknown.
In a narrow furnace pent,
Glows the Sacred Heart’s desire
In the Holy Sacrament.
- St Basil Hymnal 1906 and 1918
- The Army and Navy Hymnal, 1921
- St Joseph's Hymnal, 1930
- The Ordinary of the Mass and a Complete Manual of Hymns for Parochial Schools, 1935
Downloads
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Examples
A recording (choir with organ) can be heard on this page.
Instrumental - electronic organ:
Lyrics
Like a strong and raging fireIn a narrow furnace pent,
Glows the Sacred Heart’s desire
In the Holy Sacrament.
Round that sacred furnace thronging,
Shall these hearts refuse to burn?
Heart of love and tender longing
Shall we make Thee no return?
Chorus:
Bending low in adoration,
While our souls are borne above,
Hear our hymn of reparation,
Heart of Jesus! Be our love!
‘Twas to cast abroad Love’s fire,
That our God from Heaven came;
May those sparks our love inspire,
May we burn with that blest flame!
Shall these hearts refuse to burn?
Heart of love and tender longing
Shall we make Thee no return?
Chorus:
Bending low in adoration,
While our souls are borne above,
Hear our hymn of reparation,
Heart of Jesus! Be our love!
‘Twas to cast abroad Love’s fire,
That our God from Heaven came;
May those sparks our love inspire,
May we burn with that blest flame!
All our sins, our slights, our coldness,
All our insults we deplore,
Pardon, Lord, our daring boldness,
We will never wound Thee more!
Blessed Lord! Thy Heart is cloven,
With the cross of bitter woe,
There are thorns a-round It woven,
And the blood-drops from It flow;
Let us take Thy cross, and bear it,
Let Thy thorny crown be ours,
‘Twill be sweeter far to wear it,
Than a crown of fairest flow’rs.
All our insults we deplore,
Pardon, Lord, our daring boldness,
We will never wound Thee more!
Blessed Lord! Thy Heart is cloven,
With the cross of bitter woe,
There are thorns a-round It woven,
And the blood-drops from It flow;
Let us take Thy cross, and bear it,
Let Thy thorny crown be ours,
‘Twill be sweeter far to wear it,
Than a crown of fairest flow’rs.
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