St. Thérèse, my little mother, queen, and saint
My little mother, queen, and saint; A little flower I found one day
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My little mother, queen, and saint A little flower I found one day Thérèse, whose fragrance none can hide Sweet, from above, where she abides My little mother, queen, and saint Whose petals hold the dew and rain Of grace from God that falls up there That makes its fields so pure and fair My little mother, queen, and saint Who lets me drink that I'll not faint Each time my lips are moist, refreshed It seems that more of me is fetched 'till nothing's left, is what I pray But that which falls Thérèse's way And somehow changes beautifully Me, that is, where I can see I wish that I could run right now All through those fields, I see, and how I'd not come back, but stay to thank My little mother, queen, and saint