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 That a Maiden's arms enfold

Him That made the world of old,

Him That ever liveth:

That a Maiden's spotless breast

To the King Eternal rest,

Warmth and nurture giveth!

As the sunbeam through the glass

Passeth but not staineth,

Thus the Virgin, as she was,

Virgin still remaineth:

Blessed Mother, in whose womb

Lay the Light that exiles gloom,

, the of Ages;

Blessed Maid! from whom the ,

Her own Infant, adored,

Hunger's pangs assuages.