And in the dead-house a maiden wan;
On looking round, amazed were they,
On every grave a garment lay.
“Well was it, maiden, that thy mind
Turned unto God, defence to find,
For He thy foes did harmless bind;
Had’st thou thyself, too, nothing done,
Ill with thy soul it then had gone;
Thy body, as the garments were,
Mangled had been, and scattered there.”