29 May 2015

Joy of the Father, Love of the Son, Delight of the Holy Spirit

Joy of the Father, Love of the Son,
Delight of the Holy Spirit,
Delight of the Most High God.
Thou who knew not man,
Mother of the Holy One,
Mother of him who was never made.
He drank life from thy breasts.
Before Adam he knew thee,
To Adam he told of thee.
Angels and saints feast on thy beauty.
Delight of God,
Peerless Mary,
Thy face is heavenly beauty.
Straight Way without spot,
Beautiful flower of every perfume,
Heavenly rose, whose beauty draws all.
Choicest and rarest flower of the Father’s garden;
Tended by his angels.
Gentle Mary, loving Mary.
Heavenly wind,
Spring rain,
Blinding Light that overcasts the sun.
Mightier than the mountains.
Greater than the seas.
The sun is thy chariot,
The moon and stars thy playthings
The clouds skip like lambs around thy feet. Beauty that captivates all hearts.
Light that dispels all darkness,
Mary, whiter than the snows.
At thy consent angels sang hymns of great joy.
The Father Eternal smiled on thee.
The Son became thine own.
The Divine Spirit took thee unto himself
Silent Mary, the Holy Spirit spoke through thee.
All men claim thee.
All peoples bless thy name.
Broken-hearted Mary at the cross.
You saw the rabble mock thy Son.
You saw the lance open his side.
You saw them cast dice for his garments.
You who care for all,
could not give him to drink, when he cried, I thirst.
He gave thee to us as our mother.
You saw him die.
Crimson rose of heavenly fragrance.
From thy pure flesh was made food for us
who know thy Son.
Beautiful Mary, you raised women to a new dignity.
Thy body did not know corruption.
Peaceful sleep fell upon thee.
Thy feet rested on the wings of angels.
In their hands they carried thee.
The heavens opened to thee.
You reign with thy Son.
You come, not as the triumphant warrior
in terrible array,
But as the gentle mother calling,
calling thy children to thee.
Dove of God, thy voice is sweeter
than the thrush and the lark.
Angels stay their journey to hear thee.
Your words are sweeter than honey.
Your eyes are beautiful and gentle,
We have no fear of thee.
You hear the cry of your children;
You, their mother, will hasten to help.
You gladden the hearts that mourn.
You dry the eyes that weep.
Mother of the widow and orphan.
Safe home to the outcast.
Thy smile is peace.
O Mary, our Mother, lead us home.
O Mary, when our eyes close in our last sleep,
and open to behold thy Son, the just judge,
and the angel opens the book,
and the enemy accuses us,
in that terrible hour, come to our aid,
be with us.
When death came to Joseph,
you and your Son were with him,
Thy Son to judge, thou to console.
O happy Joseph!
When death comes for us, be near us.
O Mary, we are thy children,
Thou art our mother.
As little children we come to thee,
knowing no fear.
O Mary, he changed water into wine for thee,
even as he said: My hour has not yet come.
Now he would not refuse thee,
when you plead for us thy children.
There shall be neither night nor day to thy praises.
Adoration to the Father who created thee!
Adoration to the Son who took flesh from thee!
Adoration to the Holy Spirit, thy Divine Spouse!
Three in One, One in Three.
Equal in all things.
To him be glory for ever and for ever. Amen.
The Irish looked on Jesus as:
The Virgin’s nurseling,
Child of the white-footed,
Deathless, inviolate,
Bright-bodied Maiden.
St Lomman, a 7th century Irish abbot from Trim in County Meath, spoke ‘The Praises of Mary’, with their chorus, ‘Mary, Loving Mary, Our joy and our delight.’ These praises, passed on orally, were only written down in the 20th century. Down the ages, these praises were developed like folk songs.

Read more about Peter De Rossa's book "Blessed among women: the Book of Mary"