O Mother, will it always be,
That ev'ry passing year
Shall make thee seem more beautiful
Shall make thee grow more dear.How close to God,
how full of God,
Dear mother must thou be,
For still the more we know of God,
The more we think of thee.
We knew thee to be free from stain,
As is the sun's white beam
We knew God's mother must be great
Above what we could dream.
How close to God, how full of God,
Dear mother must thou be,
For still the more we know of God,
The more we think of thee.
We knew thy sorrows and thy joys,
We knew thee full of grace
We seemed to know thy very heart
The look upon thy face.
How close to God, how full of God,
Dear mother must thou be,
For still the more we know of God,
The more we think of thee.
Yet now it seems we knew thee not,
Each feast day we begin
To know thee in a truer way,
And truer love to win.
How close to God, how full of God,
Dear mother must thou be,
For still the more we know of God,
The more we think of thee.
O mother thou art like the life,
The blessed lead above,
Unchangeable yet grow= ing still,
In glory and in love.
How close to God, how full of God,
Dear mother must thou be,
For still the more we know of God,
The more we think of thee.
Thou art, and yet art not the same,
Old things pass not away,
Yet thou tomorrow wilt be more,
Than Mary of today.
