Thou art not alone,
Nor can’st thou ever be
Helpless and hopeless,
The prey of fears within,
The pawn of plots without,
Amid the tumult of nations
Wandering like homeless waves,
Roaring like hungry winds,
Breaking against thy coasts,
Spirits of the vastly deeps
Leaping to rend thee.
Thou art not lonely,
Nor can’st thou ever be
Thine eyes look to the hills
Untroubled against the sky,
Whence help shall come,
Aglow with radiant light,
Itself the shining shadow
Of the matchless Vision
That companies thee always
In places dark with death,
In hours weary with wars.
Thou art not lonesome
Nor can’st thou ever be.
The Vision is thy sentinel
Circling thy borders,
Guarding thy threshold,
Shedding rare light
That is life itself –
The life that lives on love,
The Voice ever beating out
On hearts, the Song of Songs,
On souls, the Song of Service.
Lift up thine eyes and see
Mary is thy Patroness,
High in the sky,
Nearer than land and sea.
The Sign of the Woman appears,
Clothed with the sun,
The moon Her footstool,
Her crown twelve stars –
‘Neath Her writhes the dragon,
Ancient demon of hate,
Spawner of discord and hate.
Thy heart stirs within thee –
The Woman is thy Mother
The Vision travails in pain,
Awaiting deliverance,
Expecting a son.
Sharp are the pangs,
Sharpening with the hours
Till stayed by thy voice,
Thine infant voice,
Calling Her Mother.
Calling Her Patroness.
‑ Cardinal Francis Joseph Spellman (1967) was the sixth archbishop of the Archdiocese of
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