“But” the poor one groaned in ignorance,
How could you loose the chains ignominible?
They each tread diamond black on my chest,
And render dirty hands incapable.
A glare descended from nearby on high,
A towerer who had come to her once
And asking dear one to with the Lord’s will comply
Looked on with joy as she was crowned since.
He challenged mortal heart of questing doubt
And chided for her solitary woe.
Why would you try to live, endure, without,
When one so pure has come now to bestow?
Hush, little one, SHE, ever-mother said,
Go to her heart, go rest your weary head.