Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis

In the hour of grief and sorrow,
When my heart is full of care,
Seeking sadly hope to borrow
From heaven’s promises and prayer;
When around me roll the waters
Of affliction’s stormy sea,
Mary, gentle Queen of Mercy,
In that hour, oh! pray for me!

When life’s pulses high are bounding
With the tide of earthly joy,
And when in mine ears are sounding
Strains of mirth without alloy;
When the whirl of giddy pleasure
Leaves no thought or feeling free,
And I slight my heavenly treasure,
Watchful Mother, pray for me!

When the soft voice of Temptation
Lures my listening soul to sin,
And, with baleful fascination,
Strives my vain, weak heart to win;
With the combat faint and weary,
If I call not then on thee—
In that time of peril dreary,
Tender Mother, pray for me!

If, in some unguarded hour
Of dark passion or of pride,
Evil thoughts, with serpent power
To my inmost bosom glide—
Ah! while I from bonds unholy,
Vainly seek myself to free—
Mary, pure and meek and lowly,
Pray, oh! Mary, pray for me!

When with Heaven high communing
In the solemn hour of prayer—
To its strains my soul attuning,
I forget all worldly care;
When earth’s voices for a season
My vex’d spirit have left free—
Still, dear Mother, near me hover!
Still, sweet Mary, pray for me!

And in that supremest hour,
When life’s end is drawing nigh—
When earth’s scenes and pomps and power
Fade before my tear-dimmed eye—
When I on the shore am lying
Of eternity’s wide sea—
Then, O Refuge of the dying,
Tender Mother, pray for me!