Holy Mother of Jesus
Holy Mother of Jesus, I love thee,
My heart throbs with joy at thy name;
O, had I the tongue of an angel,
Thy glory to all I'd proclaim.
Like an exile I sigh for my home
In the far away mansion above,
In the far away mansion above,
To dwell with bright angels and thee
Near the fountain of undying love.
O my sad soul is weary of life,
I long for that haven of rest.
There the peace I have sought will I find.
Take me, Mother, to thy gentle breast.
It is Jesus alone that can fill
The void in the wanderer's breast;
Mother, ask Him to say "Peace be still,"
And my soul's troubled ocean will rest.
No more shall my heart's tendrils twine
Round perishing idols of clay;
Ask thy dear Son to sever each tie
That keeps me from Him far away.
When the shadow of death hovers round,
Still, Mother, I call upon thee,
Nor fear the last trumpet's dread sound,
For I know thou art waiting for me.
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