The First Venerator
Before the lance had pierced His side,
a sword had pierced her through,
the Mother of Divinity
Who didst the world renew.
What sorrow weighed upon her now,
what grief; ’twas truly meet
that she who loved Him sinlessly
first kissed His bloodied feet.
And oh! what joy, my Mother Sweet,
welled up within your soul
when on those feet He left the grave
your sorrow to console.
Oh Mary, let me join you now
and kiss His holy feet
that, in His boundless love, I may
obtain eternal seat.