Salvation
to all who will is nigh,
That All,
which always is All everywhere,
Which cannot sin and yet all sins must
bear,
Which cannot die, yet cannot choose but die,
Lo, faithful Virgin,
yields himself to lie
In prison, in thy womb; and though he there
Can take
no sin, nor thou give, yet he will wear
Taken from thence, flesh, which
death’s force
may try.
Ere by the spheres time was created, thou
Wast
in his mind, who is thy son, and brother,
Whom thou conceiv’st, conceived;
yea thou art now
Thy Maker’s maker, and thy Father’s mother;
Thou hast
light in dark; and shutt’st in little room,
Immensity cloistered in thy dear
womb.
John
Donne (1572–1631)
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