When first on thee with tenderest gleam
The newborn Saviour smiled.
Ave Maria! thou whose name,
ALL BUT ADORING love may claim,
Yet may we reach thy shrine;
For HE, thy Son and Saviour, vows,
To crown all lowly lofty brows
With love and joy like thine.
Bless'd is the womb that bare Him,—bless'd
The bosom where his lips were press'd;