This blog contains regular postings relating to the Traditional Latin Liturgy of the Roman Catholic Church. It includes regular commentary on the saints days and the liturgical cycle, with brief background and extracts from the liturgy both in Latin and English. Much of the material has been extracted from the 'St Andrew's Daily Missal', Dom Gueranger's 'Liturgical Year', or similar sources.
At every sacred spot, We meet the Mother undefiled; Who shun her seek him not: At cloistered Nazareth we see. At haunted Bethlehem, The throne of Jesus, Mary's knee, Her smile, his diadem. The Daughter, Mother, Spouse of God, None silence her appeal Who long to tread where Jesus trod, What Jesus felt to feel. O, Virgin-born, from thee we learn To love thy Mother dear; Her teach us duly to discern. And rightly to revere. To love the Mother, people say, Is to defraud the Son. For them, alas, there dawns no May, Until their hearts are won: Then, when their hearts begin to burn. Ah, then, to Jesus true, And loving whom he loves, they learn To love Saint Mary too. How many are the thoughts that throng On faithful souls to-day! All year we sing our Lady's song, 'Tis still the song of May: Magnificat! O may we feel That rapture more and more; And chiefly, Lord, what time we kneel Thine altar-throne before.
'Tis then, when at thy feet we pray,
We share our Lady's mirth; Her joy we know who hail to-day
Thy Eucharistic birth; That trembling joy to Mary sent,
Ah, Christians know it well, With whom in his dear sacrament Their Saviour deigns to dwell.
Yes, Mary's month has come again,
The merry month of May; And sufferers forget their pain,
And sorrows flee away, And joys return, the hearts whose moan Was desolate erewhile Are blithe and gay - once more they own The charm of Mary's smile.
Thy Son our Brother is, and we,
Whatever may betide, A Mother, Mary, have in thee,
A guardian and a guide; Thy smiles a tale of gladness tell
No words can ever say? If but, like thee, we love him well, The year will all be May.
All hail! An angel spake the words
We lovingly repeat; The song-notes of the singing birds
They are not half so sweet: This is a music that endures,
It cannot pass away, For Mary's children it ensures A never-ending May.
The author is Rev Alfred Gurney (1843-98), Vicar of St Barnabas, Pimlico. It is in his book "Verses" of 1870. - thank you to the kind correspondent who left a comment with this information.
For a tune, there are various: "O Little town of Bethlehem will fit" and so will "The Lincolnshire Poacher." Also the hymn tune Wolvercote ("O Jesus I have promised") or even "The British Grenadiers.")