Blessed Mother
Mary, Virgin and Mother
Oh, Virgin Joy of all the world art thou,
In whose white, fragrant steps the countless throng
On souls elect doth follow God with song:
Creation's Queen, whose bright and holy brow
The multitude of Saints, like stars, endow
With changeful splendors, flashing far and strong:
The Main unshadow'd by the primal wrong:
God's Lily, chosen in His shrine to bow.
All these thy glories are, and still a grace
More high, more dread, and yet more sweet and fair,
Doth bind thy royal brows, O Mary blest.
God called thee Mother; yea, His sacred face
The tender likeness of thine own doth wear.
And thou art ours --- we trust Him for the rest.
E. Seton
For Reflection:
The saintly poet ends with the proclamation that Mary is our mother. Have I accepted her as such? Why or why not? To what extent have I seen her maternal influence in my life?
