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 His Mother is a poor maiden; she wears no silk nor fine linen, no golden gems; but what matter! She is the Maiden-mother, and in her arms lies.

And in their souls His light shines, and will shine for ever, evermore.

Dear, I thank Thee.

Draw me by Thy light from all false lights of earth.

My, I will come to Thee, for Thou dost call me. Nothing shall hinder me; neither the fear of trouble, nor of being laughed at or sneered at by others.

Make me brave and constant like the holy Kings.

Mary, dear Mother, show me, as thou didst to them.

Most Holy, save Thy children.