87. Saint Philip's Home

Eecordare, Virgo Mater, in conspectu Dei, ut loquaris pro nobis bona.
— Blissale Romanum.

O Mary! Mother Mary! our tears are flowing fast.
For mighty Rome, Saint Philip's home, is desolate
and waste;
There are wild beasts in her palaces far fiercer and
more bold
Than those that licked the martyrs' feet in heathen
days of old.

O Maiy! Mother Mary! that dear City was thine
own,
And brightly once a thousand lamps before thine
altars shone;
At the corners of the streets thy Child's sweet Face
and thine
Charmed evil out of many hearts, and darkness out
of mine.

By Peter's Cross and Paul's sharp sword, dear
Mother Mary! pray;
By the dungeon deep where thy Saint Luke in
weary durance lay.
And by the Church thou know'st so well beside
the Latin Gate,
For the love of John, dear Mother! stay the hap-
less City's fate.

For the exiled Pontiff's sake, our Father and our
Lord,
O Mother! bid the angel sheathe his keen avenging
sword;
For the Vicar of thy Son, poor exile though he be,
Is busied with thine honor now by that sweet
southern sea.

Oh by the joy thou hadst in Home, when every
street and square
Burned with the fire of holy love that Philip kin-
dled there.
And by that throbbing heart of his which thou didst
keep at Rome,
Let not the lawless spoiler waste dear Father Philip's
homel

Oh by the dread basilicas, the pilgrim's gates to
heaven,
By all the shrines and relics God to Christian Rome
hath given.
By the countless Ave-Maries that have rung from
out its towers.
By Peter's threshold, Mother! save this pilgrim-
place of ours!

By all the words of peace and power, that from
Saint Peter's Chair
Have stilled the angry world so oft, this glorious
City spare:
By the lowliness of him whose gentle-hearted sway
A thousand lands are blessing now, dear Mother
Mary! pray.

By the pageants bright w^hose golden light hath
flashed through street and square,
And by the long processions that have borne thy
Jesus there.
By the glories of the saints, by the honors that
were thine.
By all the worship God hath got from many a
blazing shrine, —

By all heroic deeds of saints that Rome hath ever
seen,
By all the times her multitudes have crowned thee
for their queen,
By all the glory God hath gained from out that
wondrous place,
O Mary! Mother Mary! pray thy strongest prayer
for grace!

0 Mary! Mother Mary! thou wilt plead for Philip's
home;
riiou wilt turn the heart of Him who turned Saint
Peter back to Pome;
Yes! thou wilt pray thy prayer; and the battle will
be won.
And the Saviour's sinless Mother save the City of
her Son.