My hand in Mother Mary's / O Mother Mary

This is a hymn about being accompanied by Mary.

It was requested by a reader, who learned it in a convent school in Ireland in the 1950s.  The lyrics were found on a Facebook page, but no other information (author, composer, tune, publications) have been located.

If you have any information at all about it, please leave a comment below.



Downloads

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Examples

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Lyrics

Mother, The King -- my Lord and thine
Has made my heart His resting place,
And well thou knowest that my breast
Is no fit home for such a Guest.
How may I stand before His Face,
Knowing my weakness and disgrace,
Unless I feel thy hand in mine.
O Mother Mary!

With thy own mantle cover me
Lend me the jewels thou didst wear,
That clinging trust no storm could shake,
That love which made thy true heart break,
Thy deep and self-effacing prayer,
Thy willingness His grief to share.
So shall He find me like to thee.
O Mother Mary!

Whether He comes with joy and peace
Or brings His own dear gift of pain,
Help me to give Him welcome meet
His coming with grave smile to greet.
If thou but aid me, not in vain
Will be my hope His heart to gain,
And with His love thine shall increase.
O Mother Mary!

Keep in my heart all through the day,
The thought of Him like sweetest song,
And though that heart should hotly throb
Watch, that no hurt my peace may rob.
Win me the victory over wrong
Teach me to suffer and be strong,
From Him and thee let me not stray.
O Mother Mary!

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Mother, The King -- my Lord and thine
Has made my heart His resting place,
And well thou knowest that my breast
Is no fit home for such a Guest.
How may I stand before His Face,
Knowing my weakness and disgrace,
Unless I feel thy hand in mine.
O Mother Mary!

With thy own mantle cover me
Lend me the jewels thou didst wear,
That clinging trust no storm could shake,
That love which made thy true heart break,
Thy deep and self-effacing prayer,
Thy willingness His grief to share.
So shall He find me like to thee.
O Mother Mary!

Whether He comes with joy and peace
Or brings His own dear gift of pain,
Help me to give Him welcome meet
His coming with grave smile to greet.
If thou but aid me, not in vain
Will be my hope His heart to gain,
And with His love thine shall increase.
O Mother Mary!

Keep in my heart all through the day,
The thought of Him like sweetest song,
And though that heart should hotly throb
Watch, that no hurt my peace may rob.
Win me the victory over wrong
Teach me to suffer and be strong,
From Him and thee let me not stray.
O Mother Mary!

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