e 134-135

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No. 87

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Hear thy children, gentlest Mother

Children's Hymn to Our Lady
Father Stanfield
M. Haydn
Arr. by N. A. M.

Moderato

1.
Hear thy children, gentlest Mother,
Pray'rful hearts to thee arise;
Hear us while our evening Ave
Soars beyond the starry skies.
Darkling shadows fall around us,
Stars their silent watches keep;
Hush the heart oppress'd with sorrow,
Dry the tears of those who weep.

2.
Hear, sweet Mother, hear the weary,
Borne upon life's troubled sea;
Gentle guiding Star of Ocean,
Lead thy children home to thee.
Still watch o'er us, dearest Mother,
From thy beauteous throne above;
Guard us from all harm and danger,
'Neath thy shelt'ring wings of love.

Page 136

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No. 88

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

O Most holy one
O Sanctissima

Translated by Rev. J. M. Raker
Sicilian Melody
Arr. by N. A. M.

Slowly, with devotion

1.
O most holy one,
O most lowly one,
Dearest Virgin Maria!
Mother of fair Love,
Home of the Spirit Dove
Ora, ora pro nobis.

2.
Help us in sadness drear,
Port of gladness near,
Virgin Mother Maria!
In pity heading,
Hear our pleading,
Ora, ora pro nobis.

3.
Call we fearfully,
Sadly, tearfully,
Save us now, O Maria!
Let us not languish,
Heal thou our anguish,
Ora, ora pro nobis.

4.
Mother, Maiden fair,
Look with loving care,
Hear our pray'r, O Maria!
Our sorrow feeling,
Send us thy healing,
Ora, ora pro nobis.

Page 137

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No. 89

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Mother of Christ

Nicola A. Montani

Not too slow (alla breve)

1.
Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
What shall I ask of thee?
I do not sigh for the wealth of earth,
For joys that fade and flee;
But, Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
This do I long to see,
The bliss untold which thine arms enfold,
The treasure upon thy knee.

2.
Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
What shall I do for thee?
I love thy Son with my whole strength
My only King shall he be.
Yes, Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
This I do ask of thee,
Of all that are dear or cherished here,
None shall be dear as He.

3.
Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
I toss on a stormy sea,
O lift thy child as beacon high
To the port where I fain would be,
Then, Mother of Christ, Mother of Christ,
This do I ask of thee,
When the voyage is o'er, O stand on the shore
And show Him at last to me.

Page 138

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No. 90

THE BLES