Fencing Bear at Prayer

"Hail, virgin, mother of Christ, you who by your purity merited to be called phoenix of virgins; hail, virgin, whose fruit gave to us the end of sorrow and the limit of lamentation. Hail, beautiful virgin, for whose praise neither rhythm nor meter suffices; hail, virgin, turning-post of evil, vein of life, through whom the theta of foul death is accomplished. Hail, glorious virgin, you who are the comment and gloss of prophetic scripture, whose gloss makes bare that which is veiled by the hard shell of the letter. Hail, virgin, key of heaven, hail, new ship weighed down with novel wares, through whom on full sails is brought the full light from heaven to the blind and wandering. Hail, maidenly gem, hail, bright star of the sea, hail, satchel of the divine will, hail, torch and lantern whom the supernal light sets light, firebrand of eternal light. Hail, virgin, whose womb diligently sealed swelled with a new growth; without pain and torment the splendor and figure of the Father wi...

Once I wrote a song of Mary Six in feet, its truth contrary. Now verse I draw from quiver rude; O grace, let me a poet prove. In praise I sharpen blunted pen To cry the Virgin's praise again. But, oh, that words would harmonize In style with that which I do prize. Vile, brief and rude though writing be, In praise of you, it's oratory. And all the writer bums become Like tongues of angels, cherubim. If all the world turned into quills And atoms scribes, for all their skills This host could not her praise reveal Nor even match the Virgin's heel. As many scribes as there are leaves, Rocks, pebbles, groves or dripping seas Could not the Virgin worthily Describe in all eternity. If scribes were numbered with the stars That twinkle in the face of Mars Or drops of rain that on earth fall, The matter's weight would crush them all. To praise, therefore, love urges me The Virgin in her majesty; And mildly she calls me to stand, The offered reed to take in hand. But I that pen acc...