Luke 1 (I)

My ravisht soule extols his Name,
Who rules the Worlds admired Frame:
My Spirit, with exalted Voyce,
In God my Saviour shall rejoyce:
Who hath his glorious Beames displayd,
Vpon a poore and humble Maid.
Me all succeeding Ages shall
The blessed Virgin-Mother call.
The Great, great things for me hath wrought;
His Sanctity past humane thought.
His Mercy still reflects on those,
Who in his Truth their Trust repose.
He with his Arme hath Wonders showne:
The Proud in their owne pride re throwne;
The Mighty from their Thrones dejects:
The Lowly from the dust erects.
The Hungry are his welcome Guests;
The Rich excluded from his Feasts.
He mindfull of his Promise, hath
Maintain'd, and crowned Israels Faith:
To Abraham promis'd, and decreed
For ever to his holy Seed.