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The Name of Mary.


ARY! Sweet name revered above,

And oh how dear below!

In it are hope and holy love,
And blessings from it flow.

Mary! What music in that sound,
Pure lips breathe it even:
"Ave Maria," sings earth around,
And souls look up to heaven.

Mary! Bright angels speak the name
With reverence soft and low:

And God Himself, ever the same,
His love for it did show.

Mary! To me that name recalls

The Queen who reigns above, An angel sister in Heaven's halls, And one worthy of love.

Mary! Bright star of heavenly rest!
I love thy name and thee;

Mother purest, Virgin ever blest,

Look down and pray for me.


In Heaven we'll know

our own.

HANK God for the faith that teaches,
When the struggles of life are o'er
We shall meet our own, our loved ones,
And know them all once more,
What matter though life be dreary,
And we tread its path alone,

If, when the journey is ended,

In Heaven we'll know our own?

And how will it be, I wonder,
Shall those who were dearest here

Be dearest again in Heaven?

Or, think you, when we stand near

The throne of a loving Father,

That His children every one

Shall seem equally dear to each other—

Can any be like our own?

I wonder

but then, no matter,

This belongs to the great "To be;"

And we'll see all these things more clearly
In the light of Eternity.

'Tis enough to know if we're faithful,
Till the labor of life is done,

In the sweet by-and-by in Heaven,

We shall meet and know our own.

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And bless the food which Thou hast given,

For our starved souls with that True Bread, Which Thou in mercy brought from Heaven.

Heal our sad hearts with Love Divine,

To give us strength our cross to bear,
And our dull souls with Grace incline
That we Thy loving gifts may share.

These absent ones we miss awhile,

Into Thy sacred care we give;

May we with them in Heaven at last.

Behold in peace Thy Face and live.

MEEK and humble Lord divine,

May I be Thine, and Thou be mine;

May my proud heart grow meek like Thine!

First and Last Com


ES, I remember well the time, the place
Of First Communion, date of rarest grace!
Sweetest of childhood's happy days, for then,
As when He walked among the sons of men,
Christ in His arms raised up a little child
With soothing gesture, fatherly and mild,
And pressed him to His bosom. With the same
Unutterable tenderness He came

Into our hearts full often since that day.
How many more such visits will He pay
Before He comes to summon us away?
How many such cetween us and the shore
Of that dark ocean He wafts us o'er
At our Viaticum? Ah! none can tell
Save only One who keeps the secret well,
To Him I leave the manner, time and place
Of that dread change, so He but give the
Of Last Communion. When, and how, and


I know not, care not; but for THIS I care-
Dying, may I my Last Communion make
In peace with Him, who died, too, for my sake,
And may our loving Lord my parting spirit take?

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