Classic Poem

Mercy I call thee, Virgin Mary great —
Mercy, of God the Mother and the Bride;
Mercy I call thee, who in toil abide;
Mercy I call thee, in my woeful state.
Alas, I die, by mine own fault o'erta'en;
Alas, I die, if thou do not sustain;
Alas, I die, compelled by grief and pain.
Thou only hast the Prop of sinners been;
Thou only Empress of the world, I ween;
Thou only heaven's high Lady art and Queen.
Deliver me, by thy soft beauty's ray;
Deliver me, by thy glad mysteries seven;
Deliver me, by all thy joys in heaven;
Deliver me, by Christ thy Son, I pray;
Mercy I call thee, my soul's Love alway.