Bring Flowers of Rarest
From garden and woodland and hillside and vale;
Our full hearts are swelling our glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest Rose of the vale.
O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today,
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May,
O Mary we crown thee with blossoms today,
Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May.
Our voices ascending, in harmony blending,
Oh! thus may our hearts turn dear Mother, to thee;
Oh! thus shall we prove thee how truly we love thee,
How dark without Mary life's journey would be.
O Virgin most tender, our homage we render,
Thy love and protection, sweet Mother, to win;
In danger defend us, in sorrow befriend us,
And shield our hearts from contagion and sin.
Of Mothers the dearest, oh, wilt thou be nearest,
When life with temptation is darkly replete?
Forsake us, O never! Our hearts be they ever
As pure as the lilies we lay at thy feet.
And something else that I like, the Veni Creator Spiritus: