To honor her whom God hath honored most,
Even while cherished they as solace sweet
Through sorrow’s hours, and sickness’ length of days,
Some picture of the Maid Immaculate
With heaven-bent eyes and meekly-folded hands,
’Mid luminous clouds, the cherubs at her feet—
The sinless Maiden dowered with quenchless grace,
Filling earth-weary hearts with rest and trust
By the mute strength of her soul’s purity.
And knew the little child of Jesus’ name—