Classic Poem

The sweetest name for woman, sounding
In human ears,
Mother and maid, with grace abounding,
Is thine, beata .
So Heaven fulfils its benediction;
But Earth endears,
And Calvary crowns thee with affliction;
Commiserata.

On Israel's night, O virgin queenly,
Foretold by seers,
Rose a meek star, and burned serenely —
Thine, consecrata .
To thee — so high, with heart so lowly,
And maiden fears —
Came down an angel from the Holy,
O salutata!

Never was yet, to mortal, greeting
Like that which hears
Thy virgin heart, with wonder beating;
Ah, consolata!
Born is the King, the superhuman,
Ring out ye spheres!
And hail the long predicted woman,
Bethlehem Ephrata!

Wake, dreamer — lo! the Jews have crowned Him.
And see the throne
On which their hands have raised and bound Him;
O dolorosa!
Is this the Christ? gray, ghastly, gory —
Thy son, thy own?
For this came Ave from the Glory,
And gratiosa ?

What is, to thine, the grief of others?
To hear thy moan,
Sad Rama hushed her weeping mothers;
Ah, desolata!
The sword, with which thy son was smitten,
O pang unknown!
Pierced through thy soul, as it is written;
Praedestinata.

Now, with the mystic spirits seven,
Burns, through all years,
Thy star before His throne in Heaven;
Immaculata.
Till earth and Heaven all ties shall sever,
Midst angels' tears,
Of thee, shall tongue of mortal never
Say obscurata .