Daily, Daily Sing To Mary;
Sing, My Soul, Her Praises Due.
All Her Glorious Actions Cherish,
With The Heart’s Devotion True.
Lost In Wondering Contemplation,
Be Her Majesty Confessed!
Call Her Mother, Call Her Virgin,
Happy Mother, Virgin Blest!

She Is Mighty To Deliver;
Call Her, Trust Her Lovingly.
When The Tempest Rages Round You,
She Will Calm The Troubled Sea.
Gifts Of Heaven She Has Given,
Noble Lady, To Our Race;
She, The Queen, Who Clothes Her Subjects
With The Light Of God’s Own Grace.

All Our Joys Do Flow From Mary;
All Then Join Her Praise To Sing.
Trembling, Sing The Virgin Mother,
Mother Of Our Lord And King.
While We Sing Her Awesome Glory,
Far Above Our Fancy’s Reach,
Let Our Hearts Be Quick To Offer
Love The Heart Alone Can Reach.

—

Sing, My Tongue, The Virgin’s Honors,
Who For Us Her Maker Bore,
For The Curse Of Old Inflicted,
Peace And Blessings To Restore.
Sing In Songs Of Praise Unending,
Sing The World’s Majestic Queen;
Weary Not Nor Faint In Telling
All The Gifts That Earth Has Seen.

All My Senses, Heart, Affections,
Strive To Sound Her Glory Forth.
Spread Abroad The Sweet Memorials
Of The Virgin’s Priceless Worth.
Where The Voice Of Music Thrilling,
Where The Tongues Of Eloquence,
That Can Utter Hymns Befitting
All Her Matchless Excellence?

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