But shun him, O ye maidens frank and free!
’Twere better far
That you were lifeless laid in the cold tomb,
In all your virgin pride and beauty’s bloom.
But God is good, and He will mercy have;
(How bright the morning star!)
Even the weary-laden find a grave—
(The beacon shines afar!)
Bless, Father of our Lord so meek and mild,
An erring mother and a helpless child.