MARY IMMACULATE

“Pure as the snow,” we say. Ah! never flake Fell through the air One-tenth as fair As Mary’s soul was made for Christ’s dear sake. Virgin Immaculate, The whitest whiteness of the Alpine snows, Beside thy stainless spirit, dusky grows. “Pure as the stars.” Ah! never lovely night Wore in its diadem So pure a gem As that which fills the ages with its light. Virgin Immaculate, The peerless splendors of thy soul by far Outshine the glow of heaven’s serenest star.