Mary's Little Office

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Daily, Daily Sing to Mary

I opened the window to the gentle rain

and said my prayers there.


The Manual of Children of Mary - 1930 

Daily, daily sing to Mary,
Sing, my soul, her praises due;
All her feasts, her actions worship
With the heart's devotion true.
Lost in wond'ring contemplation,
Be her Majesty confess'd:
Call her Mother, call her Virgin,
Happy Mother, Virgin blest.

She is mighty to deliver;
Call her, trust her lovingly;
When the tempest rages round thee,
She will calm the troubled sea.
Gifts of heaven she has given,
Noble lady! to our race:
She, the Queen, who decks her subjects
With the light of God's own grace.

Sing, my tongue, the Virgin's trophies,
Who for us her Maker bore;
For the curse of old inflicted
Peace and blessing to restore.
Sing in songs of praise unending,
Sing the world's majestic Queen;
Weary not, nor faint in telling
All the gifts she gives to men.

All my senses, heart, affections,
Strive to sound her glory forth;
Spread abroad the sweet memorials 
Of the Virgins's priceless worth.
Where the voice of music thrilling?
Where the tongue of eloquence
That can utter hymns beseeming
All her matchless excellence?

All our joys do flow from Mary,
All then join her praise to sing;
Trembling sing the Virgin Mother,
Mother of our Lord and King.
While we sing her awful glory,
Far above our fancy's reach;
Let our hearts be quick to offer
Love the heart alone can teach.

Holy Mary, we implore thee
By thy purity divine:
Help us, bending here before thee,
Help us truly to be thine.
Thou, unfolding wide the portals
Of the kingdom in the skies,
Holy Virgin, hast to mortals
Shown the land of Paradise.

Thou when deepest night infernal
Had for ages shrouded man,
Gavest us that life eternal
Promised since the world began.
God in thee hath showered plenty
On the hungry and the weak;
Sending back the mighty, empty,
Setting up on high the meek.

Thine the province to deliver 
Souls that deep in bondage lie;
Thine to crush, and crush for ever
Life-destroying heresy.
Thine to show that earthly pleasures,
All the world's enchanting bloom,
Are out-rivalled by the treasures
Of the glorious life to come.

Teach, oh! teach us, holy Mother,
How to conquer every sin,
How to love and help each other,
How the prize of life to win.
Thou to whom a Child was given
Greater than the sons of men,
Coming down from highest heaven
To create this world again.

Oh! by that Almighty Maker,
Whom thyself a virgin bore;
Oh! by thy supreme Creator,
Linked with thee for evermore;
By the hope thy name inspires;
By our doom reversed through thee;
Help us, Queen of Angel choirs,
Now and through eternity.

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