Hail, Mary, honored of the race!
Light of the Home, its fount of grace,
Is woman — sister, wife, and mother —
Circling a towered and a heavenly place.
She sorrowed oft for Love's dear sake,
She did the alabaster break;
Like Him she knows of pain and anguish,
And doth for life of death's cup partake.
Hope of the race! since from Home's throne
( Sweet Love's own gift, and His alone,)
She giveth laws to coming ages —
Builder from cope to foundation stone!