Lo, in the dead of night the Sacred Three
Move slowly onward - silent; prayerfully.
Left is their world behind; the plan that he
So lately made, abandoned: stedfastly
The Word revealed to Joseph, followeth he.
O best Beloved of creatures; lo, be ye
God's chosen Ones; yet wanderers ye be,
Homeless and shelterless. Oh, grief, to see
God so encompassed with infirmity,
Thus driven from home through Hell's malignity.
But in her heart sings Mary inwardly,
Clasping the Baby-God upon her knee:
'With all my soul, O Lord, I sing of Thee.
Though by the enemy we straitened be,
Yet fear we nothing so as we have Thee.
'Thy Cause canst Thou maintain. Thy dignity
Is greater than the heavens. Although Thou be
An Infant weak upon a Mother's knee,
Thou canst rebuke the Gentiles; they will flee
When Thou shalt judge them in Thine equity.
'Arise, O Lord, and may our weakness be
Thy Sword of strength. Yea, let the Gentiles see
There is a God in Sion. Verily,
For judgment art Thou come: so shalt Thou be
The Judge of heathen Kings provoking Thee.
'Lord God, arise. Behold the misery
About to rend those Mothers' hearts, and be
The Crown of those whose lives are given for thee.
O God, my God, whose Arm doth strengthen me,
Succour them now in their adversity.
'Our Refuge art Thou, Lord. Thy poor are we.
In tribulations, lo, we trust in Thee.
Thou Lord art with us. We rejoice in Thee,
Who hast regard to our humility,
And raised us up from death to Life in Thee.'
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote