AMPHORA 
Now is the royal mystery outrun ; 
Mary is gathered to the Holy One. 
The vision fails ; and we abase our eyes 
In silent praise and solemn ecstasies. 
 
Hail, Mary, hail !  Our song goes up to Thee ; 
From Thee descends the quickening decree. 
Like trembling flowers our souls accept the stress 
Of Thine exalted dew of holiness. 
Amen. 
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