"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.

"What ails thee, mother?" Marien said, In a gentle voice and sweet; "What aileth thee, my mother?" And knelt down at her feet.

"What aileth thee, my mother?"
Kind Marien still did say;

And those two words, my mother,
To the lone heart found their way.

As one who wakeneth in amaze,

-

She quickly raised her head ;-
And "Who is 't calls me mother?"
Said she," my child is dead!"
"He was the last of seven sons—

He is dead-I have none other; This is the day they bury him ;

Who is it calls me mother?"

""Tis I," said gentle Marien, "Dear soul, be comforted!"