- Mary, let Perpetual Succour;
Be the answer, to our prayer,
For thy Son of all the wretched,
Gives to thee perpetual care.
Chorus:
Ever ready help hast thou,
Let thy children feel it now.
- Of our passions we are weary,
Weary of the yoke of sin;
Yet though longing to be holy,
Faint of heart, we ne’er begin. - Though we try to rise, yet ever,
Down in misery we fall;
So like feeble children sadly,
For our Mother’s help we call. - Let us feel thy help in sorrow,
Mourners look for joy to thee;
Spurn not God’s unhappy creatures,
Whatsoe’er their faults may be. - Succour all, both Priests and people,
Who to thee their homage pay,
Toiling men and praying women,
Help them on thy festal day.