By John Donne.

For that faire blessed Mother-maid,
Whose flesh redeem'd us; that she-Cherubin,
Which unlockld Paradise, and made
One claime for innocence, and disseiz'd sinne,
Whose wombe was a strange heav'n for there
God cloth'd himselfe, and grew,
Our Zealous thankes wee poure. As her deeds were
Our helpes, so are her prayers; nor can she sue.
In vaine, who hath such titles unto you.