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Thursday, December 23, 2021

Poem: "The Visitation" by Robert Southwell, S.J.

Proclaymed queene and mother of a God,
The light of Earth, the soveraigne of saintes,
With pilgrimm foote upp tyring hills she trodd,
And heavenly stile with handmayds' toyle acquaints:
Her youth to age, her helth to sicke she lends,
Her hart to God, to neighbour hand she bendes.

A prince she is, and mightier prince doth beare,
Yet pompe of princely trayne she would not have;
But doubtles heavenly quires attendant were,
Her child from harme, her self from fall to save:
Worde to the voyce, songe to the tune she bringes,
The voyce her word, the tune her ditye singes.

Eternall lightes inclosed in her breste
Shott out such percing beames of burning love,
That when her voyce her cosen's eares possest
The force thereof did force her babe to move:
With secreet signes the children greete ech other,

But open praise ech leaveth to his mother. 

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