Ding dong, dong ding dong!
He carried off a dead man's shroud;
At once it seemed no longer night,
The holy close was all alight.
The holy Cross that midmost stands,
Ding dong, dong ding dong!
The holy Cross that midmost stands
Grew red as though with blood 'twas dyed,
And all the altars loudly sighed.
Now, when the dead regained the close,