En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Burden

One grief on me is laid
Each day of every year,
Wherein no soul can aid,
Whereof no soul can hear:
Whereto no end is seen
Except to grieve again--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where is there greater pain?

To dream on dear disgrace
Each hour of every day--
To bring no honest face
To aught I do or say:
To lie from morn till e'en--
To know my lies are vain--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where can be greater pain?

To watch my steadfast fear
Attend mine every way
Each day of every year--
Each hour of every day:
To burn, and chill between--
To quake and rage again--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where shall be greater pain:

One grave to me was given--
To guard till Judgment Day--
But God looked down from Heaven
And rolled the Stone away!
One day of all my years--
One hour of that one day--
His Angel saw my tears
And rolled the Stone away!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary Mary Magdalene

Mary Mary Magdalene,
what do all those stories mean?
Mary, Mary, is it true,
Jesus had a thing for you?

Mary, Mary – He lay with you?
Mary, Mary, tell me true
Mary, Mary, red hair wild,
did He leave you great with child?

Mary, was your love so steady,
that you had had His kids already?
Mary, Mary, at the Cross,
did it feel a gain or loss?

Mary, Mary – on that third day,
what was it like with the stone rolled away?
Mary, Mary, running there with love,
what did you think when He rose above?

Mary, Mary – what was it like, after?
Were there tears or joyful laughter?
Mary, Mary – the kids you had –
did they turn out like their Dad?

Mary, Mary, whore redeemed,
did it work out like you dreamed?
Mary, Mary – your afterlife –
was it mostly love, or mostly strife?

Mary, Mary, were you worshipped or despised
As Mary’s daughter-in-law, Mrs. Christ?
Mary, Mary, did you stay,
or feel you had to take the kids away?

Mary, Mary, with so much love,
did you, too, rise to heaven above?
Mary, Mary, in the sky,
all we ask are the reasons why…

Mary, Mary Magdalene,
What is really true? What does it really mean?

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Magdalene and the Beatles's First LP

Magdalene watched Mary
bend down to put on the LP.
The Beatles. They'd saved

up and bought it together.
She took in Mary's stockinged
thigh showing through the slit

in the side of the school skirt.
Mary placed the LP carefully
onto the turntable, with her finger

put the needle arm down onto
the vinyl. The music started up,
Mary stood up and sat next to

Magdalene on the single bed.
Magdalene sensed her there,
her thigh next to hers, her

warmth, their knees almost
touching. What did your Ma
say when you said you bought

the Beatles? Magdalene asked.
She said nowt, Mary replied,
but Da said it was a load of

shite and where did I get
the money from to buy it?
John Lennon's voice sang

over the twanging guitars.
Magdalene said, did you
tell him we bought it together?

Mary nodded. Her hands
pushed between her thighs,
her young face lit up by

the room's light. Don't you
think Paul's a dish? Mary asked.
Magdalene shrugged her

shoulders, studied Mary's
knee where a spot of flesh
showed through a hole in

the black school stockings.
She wanted to move closer,
kiss the cheek, place her

lips on the skin. She breathed
in the borrowed scent that
Mary wore. Said she'd liberated

it from her Ma's room. Mary
talked of the boy they'd met
in the woods above the school.

Tried it on so he did, she said,
over the guitars and Lennon's
loud voice. Magdalene wished

she could put her hands where
the boy had tried. I put him
straight, Mary said, kneed him

where his fatherhood might flow.
Mary moved up and down on
the bed in response to the music.

The bedsprings complained.
Magdalene sensed the movement,
took in Mary's behind going up

and down on the bed cover.
Glory be. She wanted to kiss.
Needed the hand to touch Mary's,

the skin to join up with hers.
Downstairs a voice bellowed
to keep the bloody noise down.

Mary sighed and bent down
to turn the knob the thigh
revealed in the skirt's slit,

the spot of flesh through
the hole in the bended knee.
Magdalene captured the image.

Hid it in her memory bank for
later, for bedtime, for the cosy
pretend hold, maybe more if in
her dream she was lucky and bold.

poem by Terry Collett
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Magdalene

Magdalene, are you thinking of the gentle man
Who turned your life around
Magdalene. did he leave you any reason to go on
Magdalene, does it make it any better
That you know he really loved you
Magdalene, all your sins have been forgiven, and hes gone.
Magdalene, did he give you back the freedom
To be something you believe in
Magdalene, are you strong enough to make it on your own
Magdalene, I believe he loved you deeper
Than you ever dreamed of loving
Magdalene, and nobody ever left you so alone.
Oh, magdalene ...
Magdalene, are the shadows in the stillness
Of the evening full of tears
Do you wonder how much sorrow you can hold
Are you haunted by the ghost of something
Gone but not forgotten
Will it fill the empty silence when youre old.
Magdalene, are you thinking of the gentle man
Who turned your life around
Magdalene. did he leave you any reason to go on
Magdalene, I believe he loved you deeper
Than you ever dreamed of loving
Magdalene, all your sins have been forgiven, and hes gone.

song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the Foot of the Cross

At the foot of the Cross stood the Magdalene
with Mary, his mother, and John.
Jesus was now in extremis-
the curious people had gone.

The mark of the whips were upon him,
an ugly bruise under his eye.
Blood filtered down from the crown made of thorns.
dripping down from his face to one thigh.

Mary watched as her eldest was dying.
Bore her pain with incredible calm.
She wished that, his agony over,
She’d hold him once more in her arms.

With breath that was labored and shallow
He spoke with his life nearly gone
He commended young John to his mother
And commended his mother to John

He looked at the Magdalene sadly
With a love that’s ineffably rare.
Then with loud voice he cried out to Heaven
A fool might think this was despair.

Joseph of Arimethea
came with a ladder near dusk
With the help of the Priest, Nicodemus
He took the crucified Son from his Cross.

Mary was silently weeping
at the body of Christ in her arms.
She looked at the King Pilate murdered.
Whom the people had greeted with Palms

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Kick

Hey, Miss Magdalene girl sympathy mind hey, Miss Magdalene girl power. Power off, yeah grant a flesh show meek inherit nothing but death song queen sex go-go moving like a bad dream promised so long ago blessed art thou among women is this easy come is this easy go mingled with fear you get what you wish, wish, wish, wish, wish Gabriel get out this is my Nazareth wicked joy trembling town wicked joy be a raging machine chosen worthy to explode a king a king, king, king, king, king, king, king, king drilling down deep inside heartache tests the pain girls on the bar swing around danger does the same Magdalene, Magdalene, Magdalene, Magdalene peace grants suspicious crashing like some animals southern terror claws scream

song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary

(Revised Prayer)

Mary Magdalene, walked in grace
Your lord walked beside you.
Revered are you among women
Blessed was the fruit in your womb
of Jesus.
Holy Mary;
Mother of Men pray for mankind,
now at the hour of our awakening.

So it was, so it is and so it shall be

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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A Nativity

1914-18

The Babe was laid in the Manger
Between the gentle kine --
All safe from cold and danger --
"But it was not so with mine,
(With mine! With mine!)
"Is it well with the child, is it well?"
The waiting mother prayed.
"For I know not how he fell,
And I know not where he is laid."

A Star stood forth in Heaven;
The Watchers ran to see
The Sign of the Promise given --
"But there comes no sign to me.
(To me! To me!)
"My child died in the dark.
Is it well with the child, is it well?
There was none to tend him or mark,
And I know not how he fell."

The Cross was raised on high;
The Mother grieved beside --
"But the Mother saw Him die
And took Him when He died.
(He died! He died!)
"Seemly and undefiled
His burial-place was made --
Is it well, is it well with the child?
For I know not where he is laid."

On the dawning of Easter Day
Comes Mary Magdalene;
But the Stone was rolled away,
And the Body was not within --
(Within! Within!)
"Ah, who will answer my word?
The broken mother prayed.
"They have taken away my Lord,
And I know not where He is laid."

. . . . .

"The Star stands forth in Heaven.
The watchers watch in vain
For Sign of the Promise given
Of peace on Earth again --
(Again! Again!)
"But I know for Whom he fell" --
The steadfast mother smiled,
"Is it well with the child -- is it well?
It is well -- it is well with the child!"

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Magdalene

I, I know Im a dreamer
Its easy to see I want to be a believer
And fly right through the air
Now Im wide awake
I want you to take me there
The things that you told me
I dont know if I was dreaming
And dreams arent enough
Life is so lonely
I need someone to believe in
Are you in love?
Cant you see thats everything to me
Thats enough
Magdalene, let me hear it said so I am sure
Answer me -- cant you see thats all Im waitin for?
Here I am on my knees once more
Magdalene
Time must lead you somewhere
I dont want to wait
I know you can take me there
The way that you hold me
I dont know if I was dreaming
And dreams arent enough
Life is so lonely
I need someone to believe in
Someone to love
Cant you see thats everything to me
Thats enough
Magdalene let me hear it said so I am sure
Answer me -- cant you see thats all Im waiting for?
Here I am on my knees
Oh, Im begging you please
Magdalene
Magdalene...
Magdalene...
Magdalene...
(scholz-foulke-sikes)

song performed by by Boston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Mark (Chapter 16)

When Sabbath Day was o’er, Mary, Salome
And Mary Magdalene had bought spices,
To go anoint the body of Jesus.
They reached the tomb when sun has just risen;
On week’s first day, they wondered who will roll
The stone away for them at tomb’s entrance.
They came but saw the large stone rolled away!

Entering the tomb, they saw a young man sit,
In robe of white, clad; they were so amazed.
He said to them, “Don’t be amazed, you seek
Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified;
He’s not here; Behold the place He was laid!
He has been raised from the dead and alive”
Go tell His disciples and Peter too,
“He goes ahead to Galilee;
There they will see Him, as He told! ”

Afraid, they fled out of the tomb, trembling;
They did not speak to anyone right then.
Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene
And drove out seven demons, out of her.
She told her mourning companions of this.
They didn’t believe hearing He was alive;
He appeared in another form to two
Of them, while walking to the country-side.
They came and told the others about this.

He then appeared to eleven at table,
Rebuking them for utter disbelief,
Hardness of heart, despite being well told;
He said to them, “Go into the whole world,
Proclaim the Gospel to every creature! ”
Whoev’r believes and baptized, will be saved;
Whoever doesn’t believe will be condemned.

The signs that come to those who me believe:
They’ll drive out demons in my name;
And speak new languages;
They’ll pick up serpents with bare hands;
No poison that they drink can ev’r harm them;
By placing hands over the sick, they’re cured.

Soon after Jesus had spoken to them,
He was taken into heaven,
And took His seat at the right hand of God.
His disciples went forth and preached as told;
Lord worked with them and confirmed it by signs!

poem by John Celes
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Pain Pain by cedrick dennis

Pain Pain over here pain over there Pain in my heart pain in my soul Pain in my mind Pain in my skin pain in my bones Pain being caused left and right Pain being caused till the heart bleeds red Pain being caused till the skin and bone rip Pain being caused till you break into tears Pain at school Pain at home Pain in my head, pain in my heart Pain in my mind, pain in my soul Pain happening in my sleep Pain happening in my thoughts Pain happening when I’m alone Pain happening in the shower, in my room, in my bed, in my house where I’m all alone Pain happening every hour, every minute, every second of my life Pain caused by anger and hate Pain caused by hurt Pain caused by greed Pain caused by sorrow and depression Pain caused by grief and confusion Pain caused by your family and friends Pain caused by the world Pain caused by people you love Pain driving me crazy Causing me to take pills till it fills up my veins I go to sleep never to wake up and see that light The light that will end my pain for good

poem by Cedrick Dennis
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What's The New Mary Jane

She looks as an african queen,
She eating twelve chapattis and cream,
She tastes as mongolian lamb,
She coming from out of bahran.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She like to be married with yeti,
He grooving such cooky spaghetti,
She jumping as mexican bean
To make that her body more thin.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She catch patagonian pancake
With that one a gin party makes.
She having all the ways good contacts,
She making with apple an contract.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
All together now:
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She looks as an african queen,
She tastes as mongolian lamb.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary’s Wedding

February 25th, 1851.

YOU are to be married, Mary;
This hour as I wakeful lie
In the dreamy dawn of the morning,
Your wedding hour draws nigh;
Miles off, you are rising, dressing,
Your bridemaidens gay among,
In the same old house we played in,--
You and I, when we were young.

Your bridemaids--they were our playmates:
Those known rooms, every wall,
Could speak of our childish frolics,
Loves, jealousies, great and small:
Do you mind how pansies changed we
And smiled at the word 'forget'?--
'T was a girl's romance: yet somehow
I have kept my pansy yet.

Do you mind our poems written
Together? our dreams of fame--
And of love--how we'd share all secrets
When that sweet mystery came?
It is no mystery now, Mary;
It was unveiled, year by year,
Till--this is your marriage morning;
And I rest quiet here.

I cannot call up your face, Mary,
The face of the bride to-day:
You have outgrown my knowledge,
The years have so slipped away.
I see but your girlish likeness,
Brown eyes and brown falling hair;--
God knows, I did love you dearly,
And was proud that you were fair.

Many speak my name, Mary,
While yours in home's silence lies:

The future I read in toil's guerdon,
You will read in your children's eyes:
The past--the same past with either--
Is to you a delightsome scene,
But I cannot trace it clearly
For the graves that rise between.

I am glad you are happy, Mary!
These tears, could you see them fall,
Would show, though you have forgotten,
I have remembered all.
And though my cup may be empty
While yours is all running o'er,
Heaven keep you its sweetness, Mary,
Brimming for evermore.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Easter Even

There is nothing more that they can do
For all their rage and boast;
Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew,
Herod with his host,

Pontius Pilate in his Judgement-hall
Judging their Judge and his,
Or he who led them all and passed them all,
Arch-Judas with his kiss.

The sepulchre made sure with ponderous Stone,
Seal that same stone, O Priest;
It may be thou shalt block the holy One
From rising in the east:

Set a watch about the sepulchre
To watch on pain of death;
They must hold fast the stone if One should stir
And shake it from beneath.

God Almighty, He can break a seal
And roll away a Stone,
Can grind the proud in dust who would not kneel,
And crush the mighty one.

*

There is nothing more that they can do
For all their passionate care,
Those who sit in dust, the blessed few,
And weep and rend their hair:

Peter, Thomas, Mary Magdalene,
The Virgin unreproved,
Joseph, with Nicodemus, foremost men,
And John the Well-beloved,

Bring your finest linen and your spice,
Swathe the sacred Dead,
Bind with careful hands and piteous eyes
The napkin round His head;

Lay Him in the garden-rock to rest;
Rest you the Sabbath length:
The Sun that went down crimson in the west
Shall rise renewed in strength.

God Almighty shall give joy for pain,
Shall comfort him who grieves:
Lo! He with joy shall doubtless come again,
And with Him bring His sheaves.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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To Mrs. S---. Written In My Sickness.

Dear Psyche, come, with chearful Face,
And bless this desolated Place.
O come! my sickly Couch attend,
And ease the Anguish of your Friend.
Thy Soul, with ev'ry Grace supply'd,
Thy gen'rous Soul, in Friendship try'd,
With Wit, and nervous Sense delights;
And steals away the tardy Nights.
Whilst others to Diversions fly,
You watch the Sleep--forsaken Eye:
To Thee was giv'n the won'drous Pow'r,
To gild the melancholy Hour,
To sooth the long--distracted Brain,
And conquer ev'n the Tyrant Pain.

poem by Mary Barber
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 20)

It was the day one of the week;
When dawn broke, Mary Magdalene
Came early to the tomb, though dark
And saw the stone large, set aside!

She hurried to Simon Peter,
And other one, whom Jesus loved,
And said, ‘The Lord has been taken.
We don’t know where they have put Him.’

So, Peter with the other one,
Both ran towards the tomb at once;
The other disciple reached first,
But did not go into the tomb.

He bent down, saw the burial clothes!
Then Peter went into the tomb and saw
And saw the burial clothes lie there;
The cloth that covered Jesus’ head
Lay rolled up in a separate place.

The other disciple went in
And saw, believed the state of things;
For, they didn’t know the scripture say:
‘He had to rise from dead, third day! ’

The two disciples returned home.
But Mary stayed outside the tomb;
Bending over the tomb, she wept;
She saw two angels in white there:
One at the head, one at the feet,
Where Jesus’ body had been laid.

They asked, ‘Woman, why do you weep?
She said, ‘They’ve taken the Lord away!
I don’t know where they have laid Him.’
At as she said, she turned around,
Saw Jesus but didn’t recognize.

Jesus asked her, ‘Woman, why weep?
Whom are you searching for right here? ’
She thought it was the gardener.
She asked him, ’Sir, please tell me where
You’ve laid Jesus and I’ll take Him! ’

Then Jesus called to her, ‘Mary!
She said in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni! ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Stop holding to me;
I’ve not ascended to Father.
But go and tell my brothers all,
I’m going to my Father, God! ’
Then Mary Magdalene went back,
Told all disciples, all she saw.

While disciples stayed with doors locked,
For fear of Jews and evening came:
Then, Jesus stood in their ’midst, said,
‘Peace be with you, peace be with you!
As Father sent me, I send you.’

He breathed on them and said to them,
‘Receive the Holy Spirit now!
Whose sins you forgive, are forgiv’n,
Whose sins you retain, are retained.’

Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus came;
The others told, ‘We’ve seen the Lord.’
He said, ‘Unless I see the mark
Of nails in hands and side, and put
My finger into them, I’ll not
Believe in whatever you say.’

When Thomas was with disciples,
A week later, again inside,
Then Jesus came, though doors were locked,
And said to them, ‘Peace be with you! ’

He told Thomas, ‘Put your finger
Into my hands, into my side;
Don’t be unbelieving, Believe! ’
Then Thomas said, ‘My Lord, My God! ’

Then Jesus asked, ‘Do you believe
Because you have all seen me now?
Bless’d are those who haven’t, yet, believe! ’
Then Jesus did many more signs,
In presence of his disciples.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-27-2007

poem by John Celes
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Mary

Mary came to me
like a Angel in a dream
as beautiful as a winter snow
coming down in December
with a smile I can't get off my mind
and now all I know
she's a face to remember
in this lonely crowd
an angel in a cloud

And if I seen her walk on by
she's where I would want to go
here forever by her side
is where I would want to hide

Mary is a woman
every girl would want to be
she could make a man
turn around
think a angel has come down

And if I seen her cry
I'd wipe the tears
from her face
hold her with a warm embrace
to let her know
everything would be alright
heaven is in her arms tonight
that's where I want to die

When the day is done
Mary would still be the one
I would hold tight
til the morning sun
shined on that empty horizon

Mary could make a blind man see
set his soul free
and with Mary is where I want to be
in this lonely place
(spiritwind-2008)

poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Mary, Mary

Words and music by michael nesmith
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, can I go too.
This one thing I will vow ya,
Id rather die than to live without ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, tell me truly
What did I do to make you leave me.
Whatever it was I didnt mean to,
You know I never would try and hurt ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
What more, mary, can I do
To prove my love is truly yours?
Ive done more now than a clear-thinkin man would do.
Mary, mary, its not over.
Where you go, I will follow.
til I win your love again
And walk beside you,
But until then.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, mary, mary, mary, where you goin to?
[repeat adlib]

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its A Miracle

It must have happened sometime in the night,
No one saw the stone be rolled away.
When the grave saw morning light,
The skeptics and friends all had to say,
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle happened today.
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.
My soul is like a tomb in constant night;
Till one day the stone was rolled away.
Then my heart saw morning light,
And no one alive can explain it away.
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle happened today.
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.
Now, now wont you see,
What Im trying to say?
If you believe, it could happen today!
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle,
Its a miracle happened today.
Its a miracle,
What a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.
Its a miracle,
What a miracle,
Its a miracle happened today.
Its a miracle,
What a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.
(its a miracle,) you know its really a miracle,
A miracle, a miracle,
(its a miracle,) you know its really a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.
(its a miracle,) you know its really a miracle,
A miracle, a miracle,
(its a miracle,) you know its really a miracle,
He took the stone, and he rolled it away.

song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mary In Summer

LAY your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here,
While the blown grass, Mary,
With timid voice and wary,
Sings in your ear:—
The grass which round us, Mary,
Shuts like a nest;
By your dear limbs, dear Mary,
Lighter than limbs of Faery,
Daintily press'd.
Back with it all though, Mary,
Back and aside;
The wind comes this way, Mary,
And here the trees are airy
And the skies are wide.
What do your eyes fear, Mary,
So grave and soft?
I love to see them, Mary,
In whimsical vagary
Lifted aloft.
Mary, Mary, Mary,
Laugh in my face:
You know now, my own Mary,
No eyes can laugh so rarely
Or grant such grace.
Your cheek is pale now, Mary,
And red, by turns.
Why should the hand be chary
Of that to give which, Mary,
The heart so yearns?
Give me your hand, ah Mary,
Give me your hand:
In city or in prairie
There is none kinder, Mary,
From land to land.
Your lips to my lips, Mary,
Your lips to mine:
High up in Hebe's dairy
No milk so sweet, my Mary,
On earth no wine.
Lay your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here;
While my heart now, Mary,
The pleasant tune to vary,
Beats in your ear.

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis

In the hour of grief and sorrow,
When my heart is full of care,
Seeking sadly hope to borrow
From heaven’s promises and prayer;
When around me roll the waters
Of affliction’s stormy sea,
Mary, gentle Queen of Mercy,
In that hour, oh! pray for me!

When life’s pulses high are bounding
With the tide of earthly joy,
And when in mine ears are sounding
Strains of mirth without alloy;
When the whirl of giddy pleasure
Leaves no thought or feeling free,
And I slight my heavenly treasure,
Watchful Mother, pray for me!

When the soft voice of Temptation
Lures my listening soul to sin,
And, with baleful fascination,
Strives my vain, weak heart to win;
With the combat faint and weary,
If I call not then on thee—
In that time of peril dreary,
Tender Mother, pray for me!

If, in some unguarded hour
Of dark passion or of pride,
Evil thoughts, with serpent power
To my inmost bosom glide—
Ah! while I from bonds unholy,
Vainly seek myself to free—
Mary, pure and meek and lowly,
Pray, oh! Mary, pray for me!

When with Heaven high communing
In the solemn hour of prayer—
To its strains my soul attuning,
I forget all worldly care;
When earth’s voices for a season
My vex’d spirit have left free—
Still, dear Mother, near me hover!
Still, sweet Mary, pray for me!

And in that supremest hour,
When life’s end is drawing nigh—
When earth’s scenes and pomps and power
Fade before my tear-dimmed eye—
When I on the shore am lying
Of eternity’s wide sea—
Then, O Refuge of the dying,
Tender Mother, pray for me!

poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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