I’ll sing a hymn to Mary,
The Mother of my God,
The Virgin of all virgins,
Of David’s royal blood.
O teach me, holy Mary,
A loving song to frame,
When wicked men blaspheme thee,
To love and bless thy name.
O Lily of the Valley,
O Mystic Rose, what tree,
Or flower, e’en the fairest,
Is half so fair as thee?
O let me, tho’ so lowly
Recite my Mother’s fame.
When wicked men blaspheme thee,
I’ll love and bless thy name.
O noble Tower of David,
Of gold and ivory.
The Ark of God’s own promise,
The gate of Heav’n to me.
To live and not to love thee
Would fill my soul with shame;
When wicked men blaspheme thee,
I’ll love and bless thy name.
The saints are high in glory,
With golden crowns so bright;
But brighter far is Mary,
Upon her throne of light.
Oh that which God did give thee,
Let mortal ne’er disclaim;
When wicked men blaspheme thee,
I’ll love and bless thy name.
But in the crown of Mary,
There lies a wonderous gem,
As Queen of all the angels,
Which Mary shares with them;
No sin hath e’er defiled thee,
So doth our faith proclaim;
When wicked men blaspheme