AMPHORA 
 
XII 
 
 
 MOTHER of Our LORD, we ask 
Thy potent prayer in our distress ; 
We nerve us for the royal task 
And sink supine in feebleness. 
 
The Eye of Heaven to us is blind ; 
Time is so sad, and earth so grey ; 
But by Thine influence we find 
One steadfast star to shew the way. 
 
Thine is the sympathetic balm 
That eases from Life’s bruising rod ; 
And Thine the meek eternal calm 
That brings our souls in tune with GOD 
Amen. 
 
O
79