Our second Eve putts on her mortall shrowde,
Earth breedes a heaven for God’s new dwelling-place;
Nowe ryseth upp Elias’ little cloude,
That growing shall distill the shoure of grace;
Her being now begins, who, ere she ende,
Shall bringe the good that shall our evill amende.
Both Grace and Nature did their force unite
To make this babe the summ of all their best;
Our most, her lest, our million, but her mite,
She was at easyest rate worth all the reste:
What Grace to men or angels God did part,
Was all united in this infant’s hart.
Fower onely wightes bredd without fault are nam’d,
And all the rest conceive were in synne;
Without both man and wife was Adam fram’d,
Of man, but not of wife, did Eve beginne;
Wife without touch of man Christ’s mother was,
Of man and wife this babe was bredd in grace.
The Conception of Our Ladie
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