His Christ came unto him, and from the pain
And dismal sloughs of misery and care
Raised him with friendship saintly and most rare,
Saying, " Be thou my friend, my friend remain. "

His Christ did more: He let his hand attain
Honors he dared not humbly beg in prayer;
His sinful past in mercy he did spare,
And to uplift him to a throne did deign!

Then, with the liberal laurels on his brows,
The gift of one immortal, noble heart,
Who made irradiant his disgraceful lot,
He, traitor to his country and his vows,
Betrayed that Master with a devil's art;
And hell doth know him now as Bernadotte!