Virgin, wholly marvellous
Who didst bear God's Son for us;
Worthless is my tongue and weak
of thy purity and speak.

Who can praise thee as he ought?
Gifts, with ev'ry blessing fraught,
Gifts that bring the gifted life,
Thou didst grant us, Maiden-wife.

God became thy lowly Son,
Made himself thy little one,
Raising men to tell thy worth,
High in heav’n as here on earth.

Heav'n and earth, and all that is,
Thrill to-day with ecstasies,
Chanting glory unto thee,
Singing praise with festal glee.

Cherubim with fourfold face
Are no peers of thine in grace;
And the six-wing'd seraphim
Shine, amid thy splendour dim.

Purer art thou than are all
Heav'nly hosts angelical,
Who delight with pomp and state
On thy beauteous Child to wait.