The Strength of Christendom, as time rolls by,
Back drives the waves of that infernal sea
Which, like a second Flood, unceasingly
Hell vomits - since, beneath the apple-tree
Corrupted was our Mother's fealty.
God's Spirit bloweth that the clouds may be
Riven to let in sunlight. Oh, to see
From Heaven's pure region, how this anarchy
Yields to the Gospel-message. Gradually
Dispersed is darkness. Light reigns from the sky.
For Peace was His own watchword. Peace must be
Where shines His Spirit's Presence, changelessly.
Nor persecution, nor calamity
Devised by Satan's malice, e'er may be
Disturber of that sweet tranquillity.
Yea, Satan's reign is o'er. The White Horse see,
Bearing the Rider on to victory.
He who once triumphed over all, now He
Rides o'er the Earth unseen - is He,
The Smiter of the Smiter that would be.
Lo, wars and pestilence and famine be
His servants to command. For, verily,
Vengeance is His; and vengeance sure will be
Not long delayed on them who ruthlessly
Make war upon His members - God is He.
Beneath the Altar, Martyr-souls there be
Who gave their lives in witness. Shall not He
Their blood require? while unto each one He
The white-robe gives of triumph? until He
Their bodies shall restore right gloriously?
Until that day of wrath and mourning be
When earth shall quake, and sun shall darkened be,
And moon shall be as blood; when stars shall be
Hurled down, and earthly potentates shall flee
From that Dread Face, who then their Judge will be.
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote