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Kids poem:Mary mother of Jesus

Discussion in 'Quotes & Poems' started by Yours, May 13, 2016.

  1. Mary, precious is thy name
    More than any other
    Borne by mortal ; for it came
    From our Savior's mother !
    Mary pillowed on her *phcorner*
    Jesus, once, in infant rest :
    Now her name, in sacred lines
    Traced by inspiration, shines.

    Then, another Mary sought
    Her beloved Master,
    Where he "sat at meat ; " and brought,
    Sealed in alabaster,
    Costly ointment for his head ;
    Brake the box, and o'er him shed
    Precious odors, like a cloud
    Rising, while to him she bowed.

    Still on earth she ever lives,
    Young in sacred story ;
    Whilst on high to Christ she gives
    Endless praise and glory.
    Here she "sat at Jesus' feet,"
    Listening to his precepts sweet ;
    Now she stands with hosts above,
    Singing his redeeming love.

    Near the cross, when Jesus bled.
    Stood the Marys, weeping ;
    Earliest to his tomb they sped,
    Where they thought him sleeping.
    When he left his couch of stone,
    He to Mary first was shown ;
    " MARY ; was the primal word
    From the risen Savior heard.

    While arose that Sabbath sun
    Robed in new-made splendor,
    Mary was his chosen one,
    First account to render
    First his sorrowing friends to tell
    Of the Light of Israel
    Showing Death's domain destroyed,
    And the grave a final void !

    Mary mine, so young and fair,
    Full of warm affection,
    Hence from sin and worldly snare
    Wouldst thou sure protection ?
    Guard the beauty of thy name
    By their graces whence it came :
    Early taught of Jesus be,
    Like the maid of Bethany.

    Choose, like her, " that better part ;"
    Let thine action show it !
    If to Christ we give our heart,
    Earth, like Heaven, must know it.
    He hath many lovely ways,
    Through the child, to perfect praise :
    Thou, at least, canst speak and pray
    For the heathens far away.

    He will bless thy feeblest aim
    Like that other Mary
    Life to publish in his name,
    Though the means may vary.
    Little self-denials, made
    Offerings at his altar laid,
    On some heathen isle or shore.
    May reward thee evermore.

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