by
Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the
least shade of thought to sin allied.
Woman! above all women
glorified,
Our tainted nature’s solitary boast;
Purer than foam on
central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With
fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on
heaven’s blue coast;
Thy image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not
unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which
did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in thee
Of mother’s love
with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!