 | An octave to Mary |  |
xxi
Child and Mother
Look on Thy Mother's face,
That miracle of grace,
O Son Divine!
That, bending, she may see
A greater mystery
Revealed in Thine.
That miracle of grace,
O Son Divine!
That, bending, she may see
A greater mystery
Revealed in Thine.
xxiii
Without Thee, she had been
Nor Mother Blessed, nor Queen:
Nor wouldest Thou,
Her lowliness apart,
Have borne the Human Heart
Thou bearest now.
Nor Mother Blessed, nor Queen:
Nor wouldest Thou,
Her lowliness apart,
Have borne the Human Heart
Thou bearest now.
xxv
Then, if I render love
Thro' her, Thou must approve
The tribute paid;
For 'tis Thy Holy Face,
Not Caesar's, that I trace
In hers portrayed.
Thro' her, Thou must approve
The tribute paid;
For 'tis Thy Holy Face,
Not Caesar's, that I trace
In hers portrayed.
| An octave to Mary | |