Sing we all the joys and sorrows which in Mary's heart were found; to her fame our voices raising let consenting praise abound: so do bird of night and morning make their mingled songs resound. Through the guest-throng at the banquet undismayed she sought her Lord; cleansing tears and salving ointments lowly on his feet she poured, wiped them with her hair, obtaining by her love the great reward. Deigns the Cleanser to be cleansed; stoops the Source to find the flow; drains the Flower in outpoured fragrance perfume which its heart let go: heavens which have rained their bounty drink the dew from earth below! There in box of alabaster, bearing nard of fragrance pure, she with gift of outpoured sweetness bids the mystic sign endure: seeking from anointment healing, lo, the sick anoints the Cure! Dearly then for that dear offering did our Lord in love repay: since so perfect her devotion, all her sins he put away: made her be his own forerunner on his Resurrection day. Now be glory, laud and honor unto him the Paschal Host, who, in war with Death a Lion, as a Lamb gave up the ghost, and the third day rose a Victor crowned with spoils that Death had lost.
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