The Mother of Mercy in sorrow wise
Looks at our wounds with her kind eyes,
Heals with her look, as the great scathless can;
In every man she sees a child, in every child a man.

Lo! her great spirit leaves the holy height,
Swoops to the depths where old Sin lies at night,
And the grey head to her good breast she takes,
And kisses lips that curse before the worn child wakes.

She, mortal woman, knew the stress of birth,
In a frail child she bore the King of Earth.
The eternal symbol of our faith she stands
Who put all hope into our Children's hands,

Mother of Mercy, in sorrow wise,
Look at our life with your kind eyes,
Charm our dull sight, as your sweet pity can,
To see in every man a child, in every child a man.