You meet me and greet me
Serenely and queenly;
And image so sweetly the one I adore
When She was a child in the ages of yore.
Her name it is Mary Regina—your own.
You share it and wear it
As flower its dower
Of fragrance—predestined hereafter, full-blown,
To reign with the lilies that circle Her throne.
Be fragrant for me, then, O lily! and pray—
Each hour, little flower,
Exhaling availing
Petitions—to Mary the Queen of your May,
To breathe on my Autumn your pureness to-day.