'Tis the month of our Mother
The blessed and beautiful days,
When our lips and our spirits,
are glowing with love and with praise.
All Hail! to thee, dear Mary,
the guardian of our way;
To the fairest of Queens,
Be the fairest of seasons, sweet May.
Oh! what peace to her children,
mid sorrows and trials to know,
that the love of their Mother,
Hath ever a solace for woe.
And, what joy to the erring,
The sinful and sorrowful soul; That a trust in her guidance,
will lead to a glorious goal.
Let us sing then, rejoicing,
that God hath so honored our race,
as to clothe with our nature,
Sweet Mary, the Mother of Grace.