Purification of the Blessed Virgin

May we have leave to ask, illustrious Mother,
Why thou dost turtles bring
For thy Son's offering,
And rather giv'st not one lamb for another?
It seems that golden shower which th'other day
The forward faithful East
Poured at thy feet, made haste
Through some devout expence to find its way.
O precious poverty, which canst appear
Richer to holy eyes
Than any golden prize,
And sweeter art than frankincense and myrrh!
Come then, that silver, which thy turtles wear
Upon their wings, shall make
Precious thy gift, and speak
That Son of thine, like them, all pure and fair.
But know that heaven will not be long in debt;
No, the Eternal Dove
Down from his nest above
Shall come, and on thy son's dear head shall sit.
Heaven will not have Him ransomed, heaven's law
Makes no exception
For lambs, and such a one
Is He: a fairer Lamb heaven never saw.
He must be offered, or the world is lost:
The whole world's ransom lies
In this great sacrifice;
And He will pay its debt, whate'er it cost.
Nor shall these turtles unrepayed be,
These turtles which today
Thy love for Him did pay:
Thou ransom'dst Him, and He will ransom thee.
A dear and full redemption will He give
Thee and the world: this Son,
And none but this alone
By His own death can make His Mother live.