Classic Poem

For that fair blessed mother-maid,
Whose flesh redeemed us; that she-cherubin,
Which unlocked Paradise, and made
One claim for innocence, and disseized sin,
Whose womb was a strange heaven, for there
God clothed himself, and grew,
Our zealous thanks we pour. As her deeds were
Our helps, so are her prayers; nor can she sue
In vain, who hath such titles unto you.