the son of the mother who married her brother
he hath killed in the church
the red in the eyes of a passionate lover
they hath killed in the church
the fog in the night of a winter eve’s morn
the whip of the breeze in the air where ’twas born
the ebb of my life which to you I hath sworn
all hath killed in the church
the ears of the saint who doth hear mortals’ pleas
they hath killed in the church
the fear-stricken scarlet who froze on her knees
she hath killed in the church
the beat of the drums rising up over hills
the sword of the knight that makes his kills
the words on the wind which turns the mills
all hath killed in the church
