There are none among us
Whom by a mother's womb
Did not arrive, save the angels
As a woman's steward and guide.

Thus the babe comes to us
Heaven wove, innocent of age
And pure of mind. The lord's alone
Until born into the mother's arms.

Here her wondrous ways will
Mold, shape, and form this perfect gift.
That moment forth by divine right,
Of this holy  process,

Few mothers will decline.

How can any soul turn away
From this sacred duty
To tend to their child,
Each uniquely precious.
Your maternal ways
Were inspired from on high,

But carried out by virtue.

Thus most grateful to Mothers we be.
From each son, and every daughter,
We exalt you for this grand task
You have taken in earnest,
To share with the Creator

Your life giving grace.