Prayer for a Friend

We came here to pray for a poor fellow Who died senselessly this past year Almost during the week and on the day When your Son was born in the bran and on the hay. O Virgin, the man wasn't the worst of the flock, In his young cuirass he had but one flaw Yet death that hounds us all Passed through the crack it made in his hide. He is now a subject of your regency. A queen and a mother you are, and will prove. He was a pure lad and you will usher him Into your patronage and your indulgence. Mother, behold him, he was of our own flesh and blood And twenty years later, he was just like one of us. O queen, receive him, through our betterment, And where grace has passed may death have no claim.