“I mourned, hands clenched, before that mound. For the piercing cold of grief had caught Me in the doleful dread and bound My heart, though reason solace sought. I longed for my pearl, locked in the ground, While fierce contentions in me fought. In Christ, though comfort could be found. My wretched will was still distraught. I fell upon that flowery plot.” GriefBeautyAllegoryDeath Of A ChildPearlTranslated14th CenturySara Deford Author:Anonymous
“Each grass from a lifeless grain is bred, Else to harvest no wheat were won: Always from good is good begun. So seemly a seed could not die in vain, That sprig nor spice there would be none Of that precious pearl without a stain.” GriefBeautyAllegoryDeath Of A ChildPearlTranslated14th CenturySara Deford Author:Anonymous