Classic Poem

Parent of virtue, Light eternal, thou
Of whom was born the meek benignant Fruit
That suffered on the cross a bitter death,
To save us sinners from the dark abyss:
Thou, Queen of Heaven supreme, and of this world,
Vouchsafe to entreat thy meritorious Son
To lead me to his heavenly kingdom's joys,
Through guidance of his-never-failing grace.
Thou know'st my hope was ever placed in thee;
In thee, thou know'st, was still my sole delight;
O Goodness infinite, assist me now:
Help me, for at the bourne I am arrived
Which I must soon inevitably pass;
My Comforter, oh, now desert me not.
For every fault committed here on earth
My soul deplores, and contrite is my heart.