And ever, as she went along, Sweet flowers sprang ’neath her feet; All flowers that were most beautiful, Of virtues strong and sweet. And ever, as she went along, The desert beasts grew tame; And man, the savage, dyed with blood, The merciful became. Now, if you will attend to me, I will in order tell The history of this little child, And what to her befel. No friend at all had Marien, And at the break of day, In a lonesome place within the world, In quiet thought she lay. The stars were lost in coming morn, The moon was pale and dim, And the golden sun was rising Over the ocean’s rim. With upturned eye lay Marien;-- “And I am alone,” said she, “Though the blackbird and the nightingale Sing in the forest-tree: “Though the weak woodland creatures Come to me when I call, And eat their food from out my hand; And I am loved by all: “Though sun, and moon, and stars come out, And flowers of fairest grace, And whate’er God made beautiful, Are with me in this place: “Yet I am all alone, alone, Alone both night and day! So I will forth into the world, And do what good I may: “For many a heart is sorrowful, And I that heart may cheer;-- And many a weary captive pines In dungeons dark and drear;-- And I the iron bonds may loose,-- Then why abide I here? “And many a spirit dark with crime, Yet longeth to repent; And many a grievous wrong is done To the weak and innocent;-- And I may do the injured right, May save the penitent! “Up, I will forth into the world!” And, thus as she did say, Sweet Marien from the ground rose up And went forth on her way. Through the wood went Marien, The thick wood and the green! And not far had she travelled ere A cruel sight was seen. Under the green and leafy boughs Where singing birds were set; At strife about their heritage, Two ruffian brothers met. “Thou shalt not of our father’s land,” The elder said, “have part!” The younger brother spoke no word, But stabbed him to the heart. Then deep into the forest dark With desperate speed he ran, And gentle Marien stood beside The bleeding, murdered man. With pitying tears that would not cease, She washed his wounded side, And prayed him to have faith in Him Who for the sinner died. But no sign made the murdered man, There stiff in death he lay;-- And Marien through the forest wild Went mourning on her way. Ere long, as she went wandering on, She came to where there sat, With folded arms upon her breast, A woman desolate. Pale was she as the marble stone, And steadfast was her eye; She sat enchained, as in a trance, By her great misery.