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Daily, daily, sing to Mary,
Sing my soul, her praises due:
All her feasts, her actions honor,
With the heart's devotion true.
Now in wond'ring contemplation,
Be her majesty confessed;
Call her Mother call her Virgin,
Happy Mother, Virgin blest.
She is mighty to deliver;
Call her, trust her lovingly;
When the tempest rages 'round thee,
She will calm the troubled sea.
Gifts of heaven she has given,
Noble Lady, to our race;
She the Queen who decks her subjects
With the lights of God's own grace.
Sing, my tongue, the Virgin's trophies,
Who for us her Maker bore;
For the curse of old inflicted,
Peace and blessing to restore.
Sing in songs of praise unending,
Sing the world's majestic Queen;
Weary not, nor fail in telling
All the gifts she gives to men.