O, O, said God, when at one word
the day burst forth from night:
O light, O lovely, God declared,
astounded by the sight.
O, O, cried Mary in alarm
when God begged her assent:
O mystery, O yes, she said,
unknowing what it meant.
O, O, the kneeling sages wept,
their tears with stars entwined:
O love, O ken beyond the ken
of star-pursuing minds.
O, O, the longing church has sighed
through all things ill and well:
O Day, O Mystery, O Lord,
O come, Emmanuel!
And when our healing comes at last
we’ll hear a word we know;
for heaven makes but one sweet sound:
it’s O and O and O!