But where’er a drop of blood fell from her
There a flower sprang up—a fragrant flow’ret—
Where her body fell when dead and mangled,
There a church arose from out the desert.
Meanwhile a curse lay on the murderess—
Little time was spent, ere fatal sickness
Fell upon Paul’s youthful wife—the sickness
Nine long years lay on her—heavy sickness!
’Midst her bones the matted dog-grass sprouted,
And amidst it nestled angry serpents.