Virgo Gloriosa, Mater Amantissima

VINES branching stilly
Shade the open door,
In the house of Zion’s Lily,
Cleanly and poor.
O brighter than wild laurel
The Babe bounds in her hand,
The King, who for apparel
Hath but a swaddling-band,
And sees her heavenlier smiling than stars in His command!