Nativity 28

The son of her voice. Because of the precious mystery of the Virgin, the beasts were chaste. Mary, in whom Ammiel dwelt, as if she were a wonder above nature. Your will for you he increased and sanctified you; he added again both your Lord and your Sabbath. The beasts of the field were confined in a narrow space; you, however, by your will, were a virgin: praises to his birth. Stropha 2 = XXV, 17 3 Not, however, an old partnership, nor was the union defiled. Her wings, great and small, of holiness from the union. The partnership, when pure, is hidden within her bosom; the darkness of chastity. The openness of the face is all of modesty, which veils the light. 4 The light of the living was in your dwellings, and to the union it gave no place. For there were no hidden works within your camp, full of glory. The shadows of laxity and desire were consumed in his flames of salvation. Spiritually, you were entirely of spirit, you who gave birth to spiritual ones. She who says, "The virgin is she who conceals the womb," and she who became a wife cries out among virgins, she who says, "The virgin is she, and she became a wife, a man." The body is one and does not leave us. It was a wonder and a marvel for the chaste, a jest and a mockery for the scribes. Virgins were hidden, and solitaries were full. To him, praises over all. The womb of the world, the cause of its trembling, the desire of the body, that which is in the members. Your womb, a supplicant, denies her taking; the desire of trembling from your members.

Holiness and purity, he increased for you, O king. With holy abundance he consecrated you, so that anyone who sees you would say, "How good she is!" Of this glorious one, the one who glorified was himself immersed, as if by nature upon your conception. And when he was born, he was in you, so that all of him was confined within your members. His radiance was spread over your beauty, his love was mingled over all of you. To the garment I sewed for him, he who is judge extended his glory over all your senses. My errors, how many bitter errors from sweet flowers have I gathered? It is like one who eats sweet fruits, and in her is transformed into the mistress of death. From sweet scribes I have gathered, and my errors have set death for her lovers. A cup is offered by the sons of the serpent, with which they poison the mistress of error. Blessed are you, O Church of the Virgin, for whom sweet fruits abound. You have one Jesus, the Egyptian; you have Jesus, the Hebrew of two. From holy flowers I have gathered, from all of them, every censer is shaken. Blessed are you, O Church, for from the fruits of your temple you have shaken off sweetness. Your pattern is the image of the Virgin, who left the fruits within her land; she blossomed, and not a small one, for her scent is fragrant, the sweet scent of the flower of Judah. And she came and in her hands she shook the sweetness of her censers, and she brought forth. Jerusalem, then, cast forth the sweetness for which the peoples ran to shake it.