Not out of envie or maliciousnesse
Do I forbear to crave your special aid:
I would address
My vows to thee most gladly, blessed Maid,
And Mother of my God, in my distress.
Thou art the holy mine: whence came the gold,
The great restorative for all decay
In young and old;
Thou art the cabinet where the jewell lay:
Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold:
But now (alas!) I dare not; for our King,
Whom we do all jointly adore and praise,
Bids no such thing
George Herbert (April 3, 1593 – March 1, 1633) quoted in The Angels and Saints: M. Dorman, Life of Glory (Durham, 1992), p. 59.
For that faire blessed Mother-maid,
Whose flesh redeem’d us; that she-Cherubin,
Which unlock’d Paradise, and made
One claime for innocence, and disseiz’d sinne.
Whose wombe was a strange heav’n for there
God cloathe’s 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
From The Litanie, lines 37-45. John Donne, (1572 – March 31, 1631) Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, Ed. J. Hayward (London, 1990), p. 294