Classic Poem

Hail, Jesus' Virgin-Mother ever Blest,
Alone of women Mother eke and Maid,
Others to thee their several offerings make;
This one brings gold, that silver, while a third
Bears to thy shrine his gift of costly gems.
For these, each craves his boon — one strength of limb —
One wealth — one, through his spouse's fruitfulness,
The hope a father's pleasing name to bear —
One Nestor's eld would equal. I, poor bard,
Rich in goodwill, but poor in all beside,
Bring thee my verse — nought have I else to bring —
And beg, in quital of this worthless gift,
That greatest meed — a heart that feareth God,
And free for aye from sin's foul tyranny.
Erasmus his vow.