May Is For Mary

Every tree, every flower is a poem for thee,
Every landscape is richer when thy shrines grace it;
Dost thou watch the lamps that burn at thy grottoes?
Dost thou hark to the chorus that swells through the ages?
Dost thou hear the canticles that rise from thy children,
Virgin of virgins and Mother of mothers,
Royal priestess descended from Abraham and David?
Chosen from all eternity queen rose of the world?
Remember, O Mary, despite all thy mildness,
Thou art terrible like an army in battle array;
Arise from thy bridal chambers in heaven,
Chase away the dark clouds that shut out the sun,
The mists that hover over the rivers and brooks,
Send a new spring full of shining flowers,
Spring in the hearts of youths and maidens,
Spring in the souls of men and women,
Spring in the darkened minds of the rulers,
That thy prophecy be not made in vain,
That this generation, too, will call thee blessed.

– Anonymous, The Christian Family and Our Missions, May, 1950.

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