Page:Virgin martyr.pdf/3

( 3 ) She valu'd no allurements,
 * Nor fear'd the fiery flame!

She hop'd, thro' Christ, her Saviour,
 * To have immortal fame,

Before the Judge they brought her,
 * Thinking that she would turn

And there was condemned
 * Into a fire to burn!

Instead of golden bracelets,
 * With cords the bound her fast!

My ! grant with patience
 * (Qaoth she) to die at last.

And on the morrow after,
 * Which was her dying day,

They stript the silly damsel
 * Out of her rich array!

Her chains of gold so costly;
 * Away from her they take;

And she again most joyfully
 * Did all the world forsake.

Unto the place of torment,
 * They brought her speedily,

With heart and mind most constant,
 * She willing was to die: