Classic Poem

Cœlestis ales nuntiat

An angel from beyond the clouds
The awful mystery unshrouds,
Announcing that the time hath come,
And God doth fill the Virgin's womb.

Oh, blest above all power to tell
Is she in whom the Lord doth dwell,
Who, bearing such an heavenly load,
Becomes the Mother of our God.

A Virgin pure she needs must be
To give that flesh from all sin free;
And, with the Holy Ghost combined,
To form the Saviour of mankind.

The world's Creator, for our sakes,
From Mary's breast his nurture takes;
That he, who is the angels' food,
May feed us with his Flesh and Blood.

All praise to him who came to die
That we might live eternally;
Praise to the Father; and to thee,
Blest Spirit, praise co-equal be.