Son of the High­est, deign to cast
On us a pi­ty­ing eye,
Thou who re­pent­ant Mag­da­lene
Didst call to joys on high.

Thy long lost coin is stored at length
In trea­sure house di­vine,
The jew­el from pol­lu­tion cleansed
Doth now the stars out­shine.

Jesu, the balm of ev­ery wound,
The sin­ner’s on­ly stay,
Grant us, like Mag­da­lene, to weep
In this Thy mer­cy’s day.

Absolve us by Thy gra­cious Word,
Fulfill us with Thy love,
And guide us through the storms of life
To per­fect rest above.

All praise, all glo­ry be to Thee,
O ev­er­last­ing Lord,
Whose mer­cy doth our souls for­give,
Whose boun­ty doth re­ward.