Daily, daily sing to Mary,
Sing, my soul, her praises due;
All her feasts, her actions worship,
With the heart’s devotion true.
Lost in wond’ring contemplation,
Be her Majesty confess’d;
Call her Mother, call her Virgin,
Happy Mother, Virgin blest.
She is mighty to deliver;
Call her, trust her lovingly;
When the tempest rages round thee,
She will calm the troubled sea.
Gifts of heaven she has given,
Noble Lady, to our race;
She the Queen who decks her subjects
With the light of God’s own grace.
Sing, my tongue, the Virgin’s trophies,
Who for us her Maker bore,
For the curse of old inflicted,
Peace and blessing to restore.
Sing in songs of peace unending,
Sing the world’s majestic Queen:
Weary not nor faint in telling,
All the gifts she gives to men.
All our joys do flow from Mary;
All then join her praise to sing:
Trembling sing the Virgin Mother,
Mother of our Lord and King.
While we sing her awful glory,
Far above our fancy’s reach,
Let our hearts be quick to offer
Love alone the heart can teach.
The Christian Brothers, The Catholic Youth’s Hymn Book (New York: P. O’Shea, 1871).