Dear is to me the holy Maid

Dear is to me the holy Maid, I never can forget her; For glorious things of her are said; Than life I love her better: So dear and good, That if I should Afflicted be, It moves not me; For she my soul will ravish With constancy and love's pure fire, And with her bounty lavish Fulfil my heart's desire.

2. She wears a crown of purest gold, Twelve shining stars attend her; Her raiment, glorious to behold, Surpasses far in splendor The sun at noon; Upon the moon She stands, the Bride Of him who died: Sore travail is upon her; She bringeth forth a noble Son Whom all the world doth honor; She bows before his throne.

3. Thereaat the Dragon raged, and stood With open mouth before her; But vain was his attempt, for God His buckler broad threw o'er her. Up to his throne He caught his Son, But left the foe To rage below. The mother, sore afflicted, Alone into the desert fled, There by her God protected, By her true Father fed.