by Nirina Mignon
Blessed is she who was knit blameless,
Who vested in her infallibility is fit for the mediation
Of our causeless fugue, and serpentine sedition.
The boldness at which we proclaim
Absolution by lips forsworn, by
The very mire afouling in which an upright heart is slain
Under the ensnaring tongue,
That unencumbered claymore whett’d and tried;
Here the breath of life is loaned
As a harlot by the deadening of senses!
Our penury of good will and
Its duplicity that doth not defail
By the living impression of the font
Is transfigured and given whole clemency,
Not by the decency of genuflection,
But by the counsel of Our Lady
Duly hearken’d to by the beheld Resurrection,
Whose blood at Calvary was imprimatur
To the sworn release of our putrefact shades.