AVE MARIA SINE LABE CONCEPTA.
BY REV M. MULLIN.
Hail, Mary, our Mother! Hail, Virgin the purest!
Hail, Mary, the Mother of mercy and love!
Hail, Star of the Ocean, serenest and surest
That ever shone brightly in heaven above!
'Mid the shadows of death stretching down o'er the nations,
Thy children have always rejoiced in your fame.
Oh! proudly we witness in our generations
The last crowning halo that circles thy name.
Tradition, which, joined with its sister evangel,
God placed upon guard at the door of his bride.
Tradition, which beams like the sword of the angel,
As flame-like, it "turneth on every side,"
Tradition shoots up o'er the ages victorious—
Its summit in heaven, its base upon earth—
Like a pillar of fire, far-shining and glorious,
And shows thee all sinless and pure in thy birth.
As fair as the rose 'mid Jerusalem's daughters.
As bright as the lily by Jordan's blue wave,
As white as the dove, and as clear as the waters
That flowed for the prophet and circled his grave;
As tall as the cedar on Lebanon's mountain,
As fruitful as vine-tree in Cades' domain.
As straight as the palm by Jerusalem's fountain.
As beauteous as rose-bush on Jericho plain;
As sweet as the balm-tree diffusing its odor,
As sweet as the gold-harp of David the king,
As sweet as the honeycomb fresh from Mount Bodor,
As sweet as the face veiled by Gabriel's wing:
The silver-lined sky o'er the garden of Flora,
The rainbow that gilds the dark clouds within view,
The star that shines brightest, the dawning Aurora—
More chaste than the moon, and more beautiful too.
The glass without stain, and the radiance immortal,
The ever-sealed fount in the city of God,
The garden enclosed, on whose sanctified portal
None e'er but the King of the angels hath trod:
The sign that appeared in mid-Heaven—a maiden
With the moon 'neath her feet, and twelve stars on her head,
Sun-clothed, going up from the desert to Eden;
Such Mary, the Queen of the living and dead.
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Oh! such are the words of the saints now in glory,
Whose voices are heard o'er the dark waste of time,
Like sentinels set through the centuries hoary,
Proclaiming her free from original crime;
Of the prophets and pontiffs, and doctors and sages,
Who once in this dark vale of misery trod,
Like lamps hanging out on the mist-covered ages
To light up the ways of the city of God.
We see by their light with a swelling emotion
The bark of the church, as it onward doth ride,
Through tempest and gloom, where the Star of the Ocean
Doth brightly illumine its path o'er the tide;
Where clouds become thicker and hurricanes fleeter,
And threaten to shut out its radiance from view,
We see through the darkness the figure of Peter
As he points it out still b the sailors and crew.
We hear the loud ring of the multitude's paean
By the nations in triumph exultantly sung,
From the cliffs of the north to the distant AEgean,
As Celestine silenced Nestorius' tongue:
In Ephesus' temple—the temple of Mary—
The fathers hold council by Peter's command,
In Ephesus' streets, long expectant and weary,
The crowds stand with joybells and torches in hand.
We see the grand figure of Cyril before us,
Where John, her adopted, before him had trod,
As pontiffs and people swell loud the glad chorus,
That Mary our Mother is Mother of God.
And oh! that we've witnessed the last shining lustre,
That Star of the Stars, in her diadem set,
The first in existence, last placed in the cluster.
To shine through a long line of centuries yet;
There were journeys by land, there were ships on the ocean,
That bore Judah's princes to Sion's bright walls;
The people have heard with a thrilling emotion
The voice of the high priest, as on them it calls.
Oh! bless them, dear Mother, we pray with emotion.
And bless this green island, that looks up to thee;
For this, dearest Mother, is gem of the ocean,
And thou art immaculate Star of the Sea.
December 8,1864.