him
  To be Himself His creature disdained not.
Within thy womb rekindled was the love,
  By virtue of whose heat this flower thus
  Is blossoming in the eternal peace.
Here thou art unto us a noon-day torch
  Of charity, and among mortal men
  Below, thou art a living fount of hope.
Lady, thou art so great and so prevailest,
  That who seeks grace without recourse to thee,
  Would have his wish fly upward without wings.
Thy loving-kindness succors not alone
  Him who is seeking it, but many times
  Freely anticipates the very prayer.
In thee is mercy, pity is in thee,
  In thee magnificence, whatever good
  Is in created being joins in thee.

Dante, Par. XXXIII, 1-21. (Trans. H. Johnson.)