2540Ere Phoebus our horizon did array
With silver glitter of the blooming day—
She snatched her termers from the sweet embrace,
And golden fetters of death's elder brother,
Bidding them hence those deading slumbers chase
T' implore the favour of the Virgin-mother.
They starting up with more than common speed,
Each shelled her body in her modest weed.
So called to chapel those whose pregnant wombs
The angel's pills had heaved above their waists,