Take me as thy child unworthy

'Neath thy tender loving care, Let me, like the Httle Mary, Thy maternai mantle share.

Sans date, Marcella Fitzgerald, de Gilroy, CaUfornie, Saint-Anne de Beaupré, 15 quatrains. C'est la Légende des matelots et remarquablement rendue :

Sainte Anne de Beaupré

Night upon the great Saint Lawrence When the angry winds were free, .\nd the waves beneath their fury Seemed a tempest-trodden sea.

Night and storm upon the river, Hopeless mariners were they, Struggling 'gainst the whelming waters While the midnight hour hcld sway.

But the f^tout hearts never faJtered, And the strong arms never failed, Though they felt against such dangers Mortal courage naught availed.

O they thought of home and kindred, Memory tumed with loving glance, O'er the ocean's heaving bosom To the sunny laud of France.

And as oft' mid ohildhood's playmates When the Chapel bells rang free, I>o ! they prayed Saint Anne d'Auray Patroness of Brittanv.

Crj'ing in their love imploring :

" Mother of our Mother hear !

Save thy ohildren from the danger Drawing nearer, and more near.

" Thou whose love bas never failed us, Stretch thy helping hand to aid, Mother of our Mother, hear us, Be thv wondrous power displayed. "

Then they vowed a vow to heaven :

If they safely reached the land, There a chapel to the honor Of the "Good Saint Anne" should stand.

Not in vain the prayer, the promise.

Guided by an unseen power, Thro' the seething billows round it Sped the bark to shore that hour.

Morning dawned ; the pious Bretons Reared in joj' the humble shrine, Sowed the seed whose wondrous beauty Blossoms now in light divine.

Ever since thro' passing seasons As the centuries rolled away, Hâve the feet of pilgrims hastened To the Chapel of Beaupré.

There she rules a Queen whose king- Is the loyal human heart, ( dom

There the Mother of our Mother Gives us in her love a part.

From the storms that sweep our spirits From temptations that as.sail, From the countless ills oppressing Wanderers thro' life's dreary vale,

She bas freed her pleading clients, She lias heard each humble prayer, And has shown to ail a Mothcr's Tender pity, loving rare.

And her ever faithful children Tho' they wnnder far away, Fondly turn with loyal spirits To her loved shrine of Beaupré.