100
With joy thee grette that may not be nombred!
Or half the blisse who coude wryte or tel
Whan the holy goost to thee was obumbred,
Wherthrough fendes were utterly encombred?
O wemlees mayde, embelisshed in his birthe,
105
That man and aungel therof hadden mirthe!
Lo, here the blossom and the budde of glorie,
Of which the prophet spak so longe aforn;