Below, the slow adversity will become a shining manifestation; two‑fold order will arise from the wilderness. Above, let what is in the lap not be a suckling; establish steady increase, O mother, make it grow.

So mid these tribes he rests, the friendly envoy, borne on two paths, refulgent Lord of fuel. When, like a line, the Babe springs up erectly, his Mother straight hath borne him strong to bless us.