Who is she ascends so high,
Next the heav'nly King,
Round about whom angels fly,
And her praises sing?


Who is she adorned with light;
Makes the sun her robe?
At whose feet the queen of night
Lays her changing globe?


This is she in whose pure womb
Heaven's Prince remained;
Wherefore in no earthly tomb
Could she be contained.


Heav'n she was, which held that fire,
Whence the world took light,
And to heav'n doth now as pire:
Flames with flames unite.


She that did so clearly shine,
Our Day once begun,
See how bright her beams decline,
Sitting with the Sun.