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the dewy shades of even Gather o'er the balmy air, Listen, gentle Queen of Heav'n, Listen to my vesper prayer Holy Mother, near me hover, Free my thoughts from aught defil'd; With thy wings of mercy cover, Safe from harm, thy helpless child.

Thine own sinless heart was broken, Sorrow's sword had pierc'd it through; Give, oh, give me some sweet token Of thy tender love so true. Queen of sorrows, guard and guide me, Let me to thine arms repair; In thy tender bosom hide me, Mary, take me to thy care, [sic]