AMPHORA 
VIII 
 
 
LL hail, dread LORD, all hail ! 
Smite through Thy rended veil 
Light till our sun grows pale— 
Eclipsed, discrowned ! 
Now might not men withstand, 
Save that one maiden bland 
Aids with Her splendid hand 
Them whose poor power is spanned 
By earth’s sad ground. 
 
All hail ! dear CHRIST, all hail ! 
None could endure Thy pale 
Anguish ; all creatures veil 
Their woeful eyes. 
Joy fills the hells of hate. 
Thou shalt their rage abate, 
Conquer the lords of fate, 
Virgin immaculate, 
Serene and wise ! 
A 
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