Heaven's Bright Queen - The Assumption

The beautiful Mother, the peerless, the bright,
  The purest of gems that the world has e'er seen,
Is wafted in glory to infinite height,
  Where angels, unnumbered, proclaim her their Queen.
She soars to the Father, who welcomes above
  The coming of her whom the nations call "blest;"
She goes to the Son of her heart and her love,
  To reign evermore in His kingdom of rest;
She answers the call of the Spirit, her Spouse,
  Whose Bride she became in her innocent youth;
She reaps there the fruit of her virginal vows,
  Sweet Lady, the Source of the Way, Life and Truth.
    - Amadeus

Jesus had gone. The glorified body of the risen Saviour had passed from the theatre of His mortal sufferings; His humanity had been assumed by the Divinity. And although this was one of the joys of His Blessed Mother, it also had its shade of sorrow, for she was then left alone on the earth. With uplifted eyes she followed the soaring figure of her Divine Son, exclaiming: "Oh, remember me, when Thou comest to Thy Kingdom! Leave me not long after Thee, my Son!"

And yet, for the consolation and happiness of the Church, He left her many years upon the earth. But her long exile and pilgrimage had its end. Tradition tells us that when she had the consolation of knowing that the doctrine of her Son, His works and name, were well known, slie was filled with an inexpressible longing to behold His Divine face, and she besought Him to deliver her from her body and transport her to Heaven. An angel appeared before her, saluting her as of yore - "Hail Mary, blessed by Him who gave salvation to the world, I bring thee a palm-branch from the garden of Paradise, that on the day of thy death it may be carried before thy bier. Rejoice, O full of grace; for in three days thy soul shall leave thy body, and thou shalt enter Heaven, where thy Son awaits thy coming."

What joy to the heart of our Blessed Mother were these glad tidings! She thanked her Divine Son, and, kneeling, she prayed that the disciples might be reunited around her, so that she might give up her soul in their presence. We know that this request was not refused, and He who in former times transported the prophet Habakkuk from Judea to Jerusalem, with the same power gathered around His Mother's couch the Apostles from their far-distant missions. The noise of the approaching event reached the ears of all the Christians of Jerusalem and the neighboring countries, and they also assembled in crowds to be present at the death of their great and good Mother, all bearing lights, perfumes and aromatics. And from Ephesus came John, his face of virginal, angelic purity glowing and beautiful with divine love, yet wearing a saddened, startled look at the unexpected news; she had been with them so long, he had almost learned to think she would not go before them. From Antioch came Peter; deep furrows, caused by contrite tears, marked his cheeks, and his noble brow, formed for the tiara, was clouded with sorrow at this new and great loss. And the other Apostles, dispersed in different parts of the world, were suddenly caught up by a miraculous power, and found themselves in Mary's dwelling. Philip from Egypt and James from Spain, Bartholomew from beyond the Red Sea and James the Younger - he who in his beauty was so often thought to resemble our Saviour - and Matthew, Andrew, Jude and Simon, Thaddeus - all save Thomas were present.

The palm-branch, which the angel had left, shed light from every leaf, and sparkled up as the stars of morning, and tradition says that when all were assembled, from the humble couch where she was seated Mary blessed them, and giving Saint John the shining palm, desired that he should bear it before her to the tomb. Then this Holy Virgin, who in times gone by had intoned the triumphal Magnificat, spoke words of sublime import, and they who heard them held their breath in wonder and delight. The face of Mary was fresh and brilliant as in early youth; her eyes, beaming with heavenly joy, were turned towards Heaven. And then the house seemed filled with a mysterious sound; a delicious odor perfumed the air, and Jesus Himself appeared, accompanied by a brilliant cortege of angels and saints, and the soul of Mary, leaving her mortal tenement, ascended with her Son to Heaven. But her body remained, and the Apostles gently and lovingly bore it to the valley of Josaphat, and laid it reverently in the sepulchre. For three days the faithful watched and prayed beside it, hearing distinctly the sacred concert of celestial harmonies, soothing, as it were, the last sleep of Mary. On the third day Thomas returned, and hastened to take a last look at the cold remains of the Blessed Virgin and water them with his tears. The stone of the sepulchre was removed and behold, the coffin was empty! Lilies, emblems of purity, were growing in the place that had been touched by her pure remains; but the Immaculate body, too sacred to be left in the tomb, had been borne away on the wings of the angels as soon as the voice of God had awakened it from its slumber. Perfumes filled the air - the fragrance of the Mystical Rose that had been transplanted from earth to Heaven. With arms extended and eyes raised towards her Divine Son, the Virgin in ecstasy ascends, while the courts of Heaven resound with the glorious refrain - "Ave Maria, gratia plena;" and the Thrones and the Dominations, the Virtues, the Powers and the Principalities, the Cherubim and the Seraphim, the Angels and Archangels, and that crowd of Saints which no man can number, bow down and proclaim her their Queen. In an instant she has passed the highest spheres, leaving far below the most exalted hierarchy of celestial spirits; on - on - even to the throne of God Himself and the Three Divine Persons receive her, and bind her radiant brow with a diadem of twelve stars, more brilliant than rubies or diamonds; then, placing her on a throne at the right hand of Jesus, They proclaim her Queen of Heaven and Earth, and the praises of Mary, joined to those of Jesus, henceforth sound forever through the Heavenly Jerusalem. AVE MARIA! the glorious anthem of triumph in Heaven; the battle cry of the Church militant against the powers of hell, and the plaintive minor modulation, the sad, low, sweet tone of love and suffering sounding through those purifying flames of purgatory.

Kingdoms and empires have their limits, but from the date of that first Assumption, the heavens and the earth are Mary;s. And now, on this the anniversary of our Mother's triumph, millions of voices bless her name, and AVE MARIA echoes and re-echoes throughout the highest Heaven. On this day her banner floats o er every clime: Europe bows with joy beneath her sceptre, Asia honors and loves her, Constantinople raises her statue and venerates her with love, Smyrna invokes her with confidence, Nazareth and Bethlehem live in her souvenirs, Jerusalem can never forget her sorrows and joys, China has opened her jealously-guarded gates to the victorious Queen, Thibet and the Corea bend to receive her maternal blessing, and Our Lady of Africa claims the homage of the children of the desert. The two Americas, from the east to the west and the north to the south, show their loyalty by erecting temples and monuments to Mary, Queen of Heaven and earth; and our own once more United States, more emphatically than all other nations, pledges her fealty to the Immaculate Conception of Regina Coeli.

Behold our Sovereign Queen venerated in all regions, reigning in all hearts, receiving all homage! More than two hundred million souls form her dominion in the Church militant. An humble virgin of that far land in Galilee, unknown in her days of exile, to-day receives the prayers and homage of the entire vorld! Unheard of prodigy! But one word explains all. It is the Divinity of the Son surrounding the Mother with the resplendent magnificence of His glory. It is by the power of His divine grace that the Blessed Virgin reigns in all hearts - living image of sanctity, mirror of justice, and model of perfection. The Church itself, in ecstasy, as it were, to-day, unable to praise as they deserve her inexpressible virtues and her ineffable grandeur, unites them all in three words - O Benigna! O Regina! O Maria!

"All generations shall call me Blessed." The graces that descend from heaven this day, the sorrows consoled, the passions vanquished, the triumphs of faith and virtue, the communions received, the clouds of incense which ascend to heaven and return to earth in torrents of blessings, all go to show our love and confidence in the Queen of Heaven and Earth; these, all these, are living, breathing testimonies of the truth of that wondrous prophecy.

Heaven's Bright Queen

Let us soar away from this world's dominions,
And borrow awhile the meek turtle's pinions;
Let us mount to the home of the happy and blest,
Where the Saints and the Angels eternally rest,
Nor tarry our flight on the borders of Heaven,
Since this privileg'd entrance by faith is given:
But on, still, still on, to the golden throne
Of God the Father, who sitteth alone;
The Father, All present, Omnipotent Being,
Almighty God, the great All-seeing.
Oh! to adore thee, thou Heavenly King
And forever and ever thy praises to sing!
But a mortal being must hasten on
Lest the light of faith should flee and be gone.
Lo! on the right is a glorious Throne
And Another who sitteth theron alone,
The anointed Son of his Father's love,
Who ascended as God and Man above.
But these mortal eyes must still veil their sight
Nor glance at a Being so dazzling and bright.
How I long for the day when my soul shall adore
And gaze on these beauties for evermore.
Near to the Throne of the Lamb that was slain
Sits the Queen of Heaven, the Star of the main:
Her throne is of ivory, silver bedight,
And with glittering pearls of the ocean is bright;
The diamond glows with the emerald's sheen
While the ruby and amethyst there are seen.
If such be the splendor of Mary's throne
Encircled by Angles, a peerless zone,
What must her own perfect beauty be,
Dazzling with glorified majesty?
Her robe is of azure with sapphires bedight
Fring'd round with a border of silvery light
Her tunic is glowing with cloth of gold,
While brilliants are gleaming in every fold.
Her face which was ever too lovely for earth,
And with spirits beatified round her the while,
She repays all their homage with heavenly smile.
On that queenly head is a golden crown
Which presseth the hair but gently down:
On its front is a star whose dazzling sheen
Befitteth the brow of so lovely a Queen,
While its rim is fring'd with a wreath of Roses
Sweeter than earth's fondest vision discloses.
Fifty are crimson, and fifty are blue,
And fifty again of the lily's hue.
The sun never shone on such flowers as those
Which might tempt one to wonder if earth hath its rose.
This Rosary hung on its chain of gold,
And I ponder'd thereon until reason told
How the Queen of the Saints from that Heaven's sphere
Looks down on the earth each petition to hear,
And by lov'd intercession the meek pray'r to heed
Which her children upraise in their hour of need.
But nought did she prize, as it seem'd to me,
In the form of prayer like the Rosary.

    - Saint John Henry Newman

- text taken from Heaven's Bright Queen, by William James Walsh