O favoured Land, whose hospitality
By God is chosen for His Sacred Three.
He will not fail in generosity,
But render thousandfold to you who be
Guardians of these, in their adversity.
May the remembrance of the Sanctity
That filled thy groves, O Egypt, cling to thee:
May the dear dust those Feet have trodden, be
A secret treasure-house of graces, be
A home and harbinger of Purity.
Yea, far into the ages, lo, we see
A train of Saints and Doctors, steadily
Peopling thy deserts; teaching faithfully
The Truth in Jesus. Mary, lo, through thee
Heaven's fairest blossoms reach maturity.
The Laras were her pleasure-gardens: she
With joy looked down the ripening fruits to see,
And tended them with care; yea, gratefully
Poured graces down upon the Land where she
Had dwelt in peace and holy poverty.
Oh, full of voiceless teaching shouldst thou be,
Asylum blest of Sacred Infancy.
Thy very stones would cry inaudibly -
Here did the Son of God repose, and she,
The Mother of the Son, rest fearlessly.
Here did the Choirs of Angels crowd to be
A Court condign for that sweet Company.
Here did the Holy Spirit tranquilly
Rest in the bosom of His Family,
And bless the Land that gave them liberty.
O Holy Ghost, whose Name eternally
Lay in the Secret of Divinity,
Until made known to Mary; praise to Thee,
Divine Refulgence, that through her we see
God's Love revealed, God's endless Charity.
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote