Help Us Gather Roses

Help Us Gather Roses
      ― A ballad to Our Lady of Guadalupe for the unborn, and ourselves

You appeared in a land         Where many had been slain
They died in sacrifice             During the Aztec reign.

You sought upon a hill A temple where to show,
Compassion, love and help, A place for one to go.

The bishop asked a sign That truly you had spoke,
You sent an In-di-an, Juan Diego in a cloak.

Twas December and a time Of whitened frost and cold
But there upon that hill O flowers he did behold!

Refrain
Nuestra Madre de Dios, Santa Maria, Santa Maria
Nuestra Madre ayudanos, Madre mia, Madre mia
Madre mia, Madre mia, ayudanos.

The abode of thorn it was, Where flowers never grew,
A place of stony ground, Cactus and thistle too.

He gathered roses there In the mantle which he wore,

And beauty took from you To the bishop met before.

From the mantle roses fell And scattered on the floor...
The bishop's eye it fell, It fell on something more!

On the mantle didst appear The one without a taint!
O thou that Juan beheld, Our mother in heav'nly paint!

Refrain: Nuestra Madre etc.

O help us gather roses             From place of stony ground
Convert with grace and truth    The heart where abortion's found

In the temple of the body,    O end the human slaughter,

The tiny one destroyed        Is someone's son or daughter!

O thou who's clad in turquoise   And gown of figured rose,
O virgin of Ros'ry joys              Who stands in humble pose,

Imprint on every heart               A likeness of thyself,
And virtue thine impart              To my neighbor and myself.

Refrain: Nuestra Madre etc.

(Translation of the refrain:
Our Mother of God, Holy Mary, Holy Mary,
Our mother Help us, Mother mine, Mother mine, etc.) ―John Riedell

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