Mary, crown of splendour glowing,
  Dear destroyer of Eve’s ill,
  Noble torch of Love far-showing,
  Fruitful stock of God’s good will;

  Heavenly Virgin, Maid transcendent,
  Yea!  He willed that Thou shouldst be
  His fair Ark of Life Resplendent,
  His pure Queen of Chastity.

  Mother of all good, to free me,
  Interceding at my side,
  Pray Thy First-Born to redeem me,
  When the Judgment books are wide;

  Star of knowledge, rare and noble,
  Tree of many-blossoming sprays,
  Lamp to light our night of trouble,
  Sun to cheer our weary days;

  Ladder to the Heavenly Highway,
  Whither every Saint ascends,
  Be a safeguard still, till my way
  In Thy glorious Kingdom ends!

  Covert fair of sweet protection,
  Chosen for a Monarch’s rest,
  Hostel for nine months’ refection
  Of a Noble Infant Guest;

  Glorious Heavenly Porch, whereunder,
  So the day-star sinks his head,
  God’s Own Son—­O saving wonder! 
  Jesus was incarnated;

  For the fair Babe’s sake conceived
  In Thy womb and brought to birth,
  For the Blest Child’s sake, received
  Now as King of Heaven and Earth;

  For His Rood’s sake! starker, steeper
  Hath no other Cross been set,
  For His Tomb’s sake! darker, deeper
  There hath been no burial yet;

  By His Blessed Resurrection,
  When He triumphed o’er the tomb,
  By The Church of His affection
  ’During till the Day of Doom,

  Safeguard our unblest behaviour,
  Till behind Death’s blinding veil,
  Face to face, we see our Saviour. 
  This our prayer is:  Hail!  All Hail!

MAELISU’S HYMN TO THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL

(By Maelisu ua Brochain, a writer of religious poetry both in Irish and
Latin who died in 1051.  Mael-Isu means “the tonsured of Jesus.”)

  Angel and Saint,
  O Michael of the oracles,
  O Michael of great miracles,
  Bear to the Lord my plaint!

  Hear my request! 
  Ask of the great, forgiving God,
  To lift this vast and grievous load
  Of sin from off my breast.

  Why, Michael, tarry
  My fervent prayer with upward wing
  Unto the King, the great High King
  Of Heaven and Earth, to carry?

  Unto my soul
  Bring help, bring comfort, yea bring power
  To win release, in death’s black hour,
  From sin, distress, and dole.

  Till, as devoutly
  My fading eyes seek Heaven’s dim height,
  To meet me with thy myriads bright,
  Do thou adventure stoutly.

  Captain of hosts,
  Against earth’s wicked, crooked clan
  To aid me lead thy battle van
  And quell their cruel boasts.

  Archangel glorious,
  Disdain not now thy suppliant urgent,
  But over every sin insurgent
  Set me at last victorious.