«Why do we weep, great God? That with her dower
She bought herself no lord, that she might cower
Before upbraidings from her husband’s kin?
That she knew not the pangs that usher in
The newborn child? And that she could not know,
Like her poor mother, if more racking woe
It were to bear or bury them? Ah, meet
Are such delights to make the world more sweet!
But heaven hath purer, surer happiness,
Free from all intermingling of distress.