Classic Poem

Mother of God: my Queen is simply this.
For this elected, the eternal Mind
Conceived her in its infinite abyss —
With the God-Man, Co-type of human kind.
And she, when came the wondrous hour assigned,
Conceiving her Conceiver, girt him round,
And held in her immaculate womb confined,
Whom " heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot bound."
Then brought him forth, her Little One, her Own;
And fed, a Suckling, at her maiden breast —
The only pillow of his earthly rest.
And still, for ever more, his dearest throne.
O Lady, what the worship faith allows?
The Eternal calls thee Daughter, Mother, Spouse.