are not worthy to praise
the Mother of the Lord of angels and of men
for neither can men understand her,
nor angels know her sufficiently
Admirable in her mortal life,
marvelous in her life-giving death
living she was dead to the world,
dying she raised the dead to life.
The apostles hasten to her from distant lands,
the angels descend from on high,
to pay her honour due.
The Virtues animate each other
The Principalities come forward
like flaming clouds,
The Dominations rejoice,
The Powers exult.
The Thrones redouble their praise:
while the Seraphim cry out:
O blessed and glorious body;
and the Cherubim extol her
with their songs,
as she passes through their midst.
the thunder claps, praising her Son;
the rain and dew envy her breasts:
for they indeed nourish the plants,
but she fed the Lord of the plants.
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The placing of an article hereupon does not necessarily imply that I agree or accept the contents of the article as being necessarily factual in theology, dogma or otherwise.
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