Where he spread his dark pinions and soared away.
At St Ursula's cell
Was tolling the bell,
And St Cuthman in sorrow, stood there by her side.
'Twas over at last,
Her sorrows were past,
In the moment of triumph St Ursula died.
Tho' this was the ground,
There never were found
The tools of the Devil, his spade and his pick;